


When A Man Loves Another

by peoriapeoria



Category: The Real Ghostbusters
Genre: Body Image, Canon Character of Color, Canon Jewish Characters, F/M, Family, Food, Holidays, Jewish Holidays, M/M, Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-04
Updated: 2011-02-04
Packaged: 2017-10-15 09:57:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 38,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/159638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peoriapeoria/pseuds/peoriapeoria
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peter and Egon are going to have a baby.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When A Man Loves Another

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to my betas, noracharles and spinner_atropos, and my pre-readers including laughingrat and omorka. I didn't take every suggestion, so that means I wrote any errors.

Egon read the letter carefully, sitting on his lab stool. The monkey subject was doing well. He looked at the cage of mice that represented his longitudinal study. No problems there either. He smiled.

While other researchers were still having problems producing a viable animal from a somatic cell placed within an inoculated ovum, he had solved the questions of inducing a sperm to be the new nucleus of an ovum, capable of fertilization and mitosis and producing viable progeny.

It had not been a disinterested endeavor of pure science. It had never been lost on him how Peter responded to babies and small children. A fact that had fortunately never been used against his friend by a desperate young woman. Since they had gotten together, there was a sadness that replaced the wistful quality that had always implied 'some day'.

So, it was a bit more complicated, there would be the need of securing a surrogate to bear their child, though he supposed that was no longer so unusual, but they could have a child. Theirs.

Egon got up, filed the report and went in search of Peter.

* * *

Egon Spengler sat down on the couch in the firehouse's living room, folding his long body primly beside Peter Venkman.

The dark-haired Ghostbuster looked over, aware of just how far away the other man was sitting. "Spengs?"

"Have you considered having children?"

Peter put his hand on Egon's thigh. He should have expected this. He felt guilty every time he saw Mrs. Spengler, not that she said anything. Or really even let it bleed into her body language. She couldn't help _feeling_ it though. He would not jump to conclusions. Would not. Would not.

Egon covered Peter's hand with his own, knitted their fingers together. "Would you consider having a child with me?"

Peter with his other hand tapped Egon's far shoulder. "Didn't we have the birds and the bees lecture in college?" He saw that Egon was not deflected the slightest micron. Peter sunk back into the couch, his palm flexing on Egon's thigh. "Setting aside the obvious for a moment," for he had no doubt Egon had all of those answers, "what do we have to offer as parents?" He felt Egon sag and hated himself; he pressed on. "What makes you believe either of us knows how to be a father?" Charlie's failings had been demonstrated on numerous occasions and Egon was proof of Darius'.

Egon turned towards Peter, still holding onto his hand. "No one knew how to be Ghostbusters until we did it. If we hadn't, there wouldn't be a world for this conversation to happen on."

Peter regarded Egon. "We weren't alone in that." Peter had nightmares of might have beens. Not hiring Winston... "It's not the same thing. We've got a crazy sort of business here, no guarantees and how does one raise a child in a firehouse?" Peter exchanged his slack serious face for a smile a bit too bright. He chuckled. "We had a hard enough time when you were zapped." Egon as a baby had been a roller coaster. Peter became serious, and clutched Egon's hand. "If we'd failed with Gozer, who'd have known, there not being a world and all?" He smiled wanly.

"You expect to keep living in the firehouse?"

Peter looked around the shabby living room. "Yeah?" He wasn't sure where this was going, it made him wary.

"What about Ray and Winston?"

"They'll move out when they get married."

"You don't expect Ray to move his wife in."

Peter shook his head. He looked at Egon, puzzled. "Why hasn't Ray gotten married yet?" He realized that was changing the topic. "Sorry. Well, no. I just assumed they'd do the normal thing." As soon as he said it-- "That didn't come out right. Look. We might not have known what we were getting into, but we're in this business together. So, since you're the brains and I know my way around a pack it makes sense we get night duty. But we call them in for emergency busts. And that's the only sort of night call we make. Just like plumbers."

"Are you sure we shouldn't be speaking in terms of lighthouses?" The question was rhetorical. "Clearly we would have to make some adjustments, better define living versus work space."

"What about the PKE? And the ectoplasm?" Peter couldn't play poker anymore, not after the years of slime drenchings he'd gotten. He saw the cards clearly even before they were dealt.

"It is possible that it might heighten any psi talents." Egon paused. "I've been running continuing somatic tests and those reveal nothing attributable to either PKE or ectoplasm, nor have I ascertained any genetic damage. My research with mice provide no findings of mutagenic or teratogenic results contrary to line expectations."

Peter squeezed Egon's hand, cutting off the presentation. He'd look over the data later. It was a relief; they all were continuously exposed to both. "Might" was Egon for 'I will not assign a percentage'. He knew in this case it was a qualified "will". Qualified since his precognition wasn't much of a sample. Peter realized he wasn't fighting. "Um, Spengs?"

"Yes, Peter?"

He looked at Egon, really looked at him. "Why?"

"I love you."

"Okay." He smiled as Egon realized he'd gotten his 'yes'. He leaned in and Egon tipped his head and they were kissing, Peter wrapping his arms around Egon. What was twenty-six years of panic attacks? "Um, the legal side?" He was all too aware that the Spenglers, not Mrs. Spengler, but the larger family could lawyer up astronomically, if. He couldn't deal with that _and_ if.

"I've spoken with the lawyer, on a provisional basis. We'd both have to go in to finalize matters."

Ice water. Peter made to stand. His thoughts spun catching him mid-movement. How would it look, two men raising a baby? Sure, they weren't getting a lot of press currently, New York was full of stories, but it just as sure was full of gossips looking for their big break. He popped from the couch.

"Peter?" Egon regarded him, Peter too wound up to pace properly.

The guys, Janine, Egon's mom, he could handle them knowing. They knew him. He looked at Egon, smiling involuntarily. Little Petey V had lucked out, big time. His dreams had never aimed high enough, he realized. And still... No bragging rights, no spotlight. Sometimes he wanted to shout, needed the acknowledgment of others. _I've got the world by the balls, big brass ones._ Peter shifted into his bon homie stance. "Know the joke about the priest and the hole in one on Easter?"

Egon reached out his hand and Peter grabbed it. "The rabbi in the Country Club on Yom Kippur?" He rubbed his thumb over the pulse point. Peter swung himself back onto the couch. Egon lifted his arm.

Peter tucked himself against Egon. "You really want this?" Peter looked at Egon's implacable visage. Egon never brought things up until he'd contemplated them from every possible angle. "Your brains, my charm, what more could a kid need?" Besides rubber soled shoes and corrective eyewear.

"Currently, I need a semen sample from you."

"He blinded me with science!" Peter grabbed Egon's hand and jumped up.

Egon did not budge. "That was not dirty talk."

Peter stepped towards Egon, letting their hands drop slightly, still hanging on. "Spengs, you're scaring me here. You haven't gone and talked one of your cousins out of some eggs?" While they didn't all look like Egon and his mom, there were several where the resemblance verged on uncanny.

"No, Peter."

Peter released a held breath. That would have been much too weird. "Then why'd you need a sample from me?" He'd agreed, now Egon could make Mrs. Spengler a grandma.

Egon stood and clutched Peter by the biceps. "Peter. I am not going to have you dismiss everything our child does because of said child being a Spengler. Fifty-Fifty."

Peter looked at Egon, then smiled. "You're getting real good at that. We'll play it your way, sperm roulette." He walked his fingers up Egon's arms. "Can we table this, for now, and work on a little quality-time?"

Egon shifted his hands to Peter's waist, his shoulders relaxing slightly. "Yes, Peter." Peter's self-deprecation was long standing, as was Egon's frustration with it. Neither would be solved quickly.

* * *

They opened the door to their room and sat on Peter's side of their bed. Egon traced the side of Peter's face, smiling as Peter tilted his head into the caress. He leaned in and kissed Peter's stretched neck, wrapping his left arm around Peter.

Peter leaned back, leading them to lay down. Right arm under Egon, and left arm over him, he wasn't in a hurry. Later... This moment, it was enough to touch, to be close, for Peter to remind himself of all the unbelievable things he knew to be true. Enough to rub Egon's belly, to breathe so close to him, to stroke the back of Egon's head.

Egon warmed to Peter's attentions, sought favored parts of his anatomy. For now, that was everything he could reach. Peter had agreed. Egon kissed Peter under his contrary forelock, and then on his persuasive mouth. He tipped Peter to the left and leaned over him. There was entirely too much clothing between them.

Peter shoved Egon up, securing his head in one hand for a possessive, breathless kiss. He quickly stripped off his shirt as they broke for air, legs wrapped around Egon's. Peter gasped as Egon found a delicious spot, which was anywhere Egon's lips or fingers were. He sought and found Egon's shirttails, pulled them free and stroked the small of his lover's back. Peter caressed the side of Egon's face, his mouth needy and his pants tight.

Egon smiled as Peter arched in response to his firm fingerstroke over Peter's fly. He took mercy on them both and quickly unzipped Peter and shoved the jeans down.

Peter flailed as Egon teased with one, two, two fingers and a thumb. "Take your pants off." He moaned in loss then moaned harder as Egon kissed ever so slightly off the mark. His next moan was engulfed as Egon settled over him. Peter spared a hand to unbutton Egon's shirt, then pulled off his glasses.

Egon knitted his hands in Peter's hair as he kissed hard and deep. His breath caught and susurrated as Peter's hands played over his chest. He kissed Peter behind the ear.

Peter controlled the dance of their hips, balancing them on the edge of their desire. He loved Egon like this, frayed and rampant. He did this, he unleashed the tempest. Peter rode the storm.

Egon threw back his head, thrust down and came. He was distantly aware of Peter's warm release against his stomach. He murmured contentment as Peter rolled him over and lay against Egon's side.

Peter let himself drift. Physicist at rest, his happy state.

* * *

"Good morning, Janine."

"Hi, Egon." She was conducting her summer file review, where she made sure everything was straight from the busy season. Otherwise she found crusty ectoplasm and brittle broken paper where a sandwich had been abandoned in haste. Sometimes she found winning candy wrappers.

"I have something to ask of you." Egon sat on the other chair by Janine's desk.

She looked at him, encouragingly. "Go ahead."

"Would you be our surrogate?"

Janine blinked. She could have sworn everything was normal when she got up. "Surrogate?" She was proud she didn't squeak.

"Peter and I are going to have a child."

Janine tried wrapping her head around the sentence. Wasn't it aphasia when you stopped processing language? Too bad, she seemed to still have her faculties. She resisted asking Egon if he was mad. At this point, it went without saying. They were all crazy, even Winston and especially herself.

"Janine?" Silence was not golden, not from Janine.

"You want me, to bear your child?"

"Yes." He ignored reiterating 'and Peter's'.

"Does Dr. V know you're asking me?" She knew the answer was a big 'no'. How Egon answered was her goal.

"No."

Aw, hell, Egon didn't even get why that would be in question. It wasn't but... "Egon, you had your chance. You chose Peter." She sighed as Egon regarded her words as a non sequitur. "What makes you think you can even ask me this?" She saw him solve the equation right before her and the shame that followed hard on its heels. "Why ask me?" Hurting Egon, when she wasn't furious, was never her desire. He rarely met a question he wouldn't try to answer.

"I trust you."

It didn't mean the answers would be what you expected. Janine was torn, Egon's trust was precious, it was like becoming a physical constant. She was no one's doormat, not even for double billing with the speed of light. Crazy, but not a doormat. "And? There's got to be a service that vets--" Wombs for hire? Everything was so complicated anymore. What happened to meet, fall in love, jewelry and have kids after screwing around?

"The baby would be born Jewish."

Janine was floored. Egon never spoke of his affiliation. She'd only been sure once his mother showed up. She'd often suspected, but couldn't tell. "You're asking a lot." She shook her head. Definitely touched.

"I'm sorry." Egon stood, and started to turn.

"Wait." Her heart broke at the wary expression with which Egon regarded her. "What's in it for me? You're asking me to give up a baby."

"I'm asking you to host a blastocyst and bear a baby. The donor has been arranged."

Janine swallowed. He was asking the world. He was asking her. "I'll do it, if-- If in five years I'm not in a relationship, you'll give me a baby."

"Janine--"

"Nine months. Who knows if I'll get my figure back?" Squirt in a cup versus labor, a bargain at five times the price. "I'm not giving birth and never being a mother. Yes or no?"

"Agreed, provided you keep looking. Don't..." He was at a total loss.

"I get it, Dr. V was the better man and won. It's just a big world and a girl's got to have a backup plan." She watched him smile his "you're selling this to yourself" smile. Normally only Peter got that one. "And expenses. Maternity clothes aren't cheap."

"I'll have a lawyer draw up some papers." He swallowed, then patted his pockets before pulling out a card and handing it to Janine. "She'll be able to give you the details of the procedure."

Janine looked it over and then slipped it into her purse. She smiled at Egon, then turned back to the files.

* * *

Peter got out at their stop, dressed in one of his two suits. As a native New Yorker he could both be deep in thought and fully responsive to his environment. Egon was wearing a barely pink shirt and a very dark gray suit. He cleaned up real well. Peter knew he was being ridiculous. It didn't alleviate his panic. His carefully constructed persona, originally Big Man on Campus, wouldn't survive outing. He hadn't been especially pleased when he, they, had learned the guys had figured it out.

Again, ridiculous. Making love, sleeping with Egon in their own room was much superior to furtive trysts in the closet. He did want Egon on the lab couch again. He, occasionally, considered the back seat of Ecto. The foot traffic swirled so he came alongside Egon. "Ever make out in a car?" They were carried apart, which Peter had counted on. Mrs. Spengler had been like a quick rip of a bandage, since they'd barely known she knew before she gave her blessing. Even Janine had come around.

Had he pushed Janine at Egon as some attempt at self-defense of his mask? He really didn't know. They'd owed her a better breaking of the news.

Peter stopped at the building entrance, then followed after Egon. So far, so good. Lawyers after all knew lots of secrets; theirs was small potatoes. He'd been here before, when they, Egon, Ray and himself, had figured giving each other medical power of attorney made sense before running around with nuclear accelerators strapped to their backs.

The receptionist greeted them as they entered and directed them to the appropriate private waiting room. They didn't have long to wait, just enough for Peter to take in the decor. When the woman opened the door, he just caught himself, realizing that she was no executive assistant but the lawyer herself. He gave her the Venkman smile.

They each took their seats. She spoke, as she handed them each a folder of papers. "I've prepared the appropriate documents to secure the guardianship rights of Dr. Venkman in the case of Dr. Spengler's death or incapacitation."

Egon looked up, and she smoothly intercepted him. "The law doesn't allow for joint parental rights except through marriage or natural birth. From our conversation, I understood the eventual child would be a Spengler?"

Egon nodded slightly, and looked at Peter.

Peter smiled back. Little details didn't matter, though he was rooting that their child wouldn't be a Spengler in name only. And he had argued successfully that it was better to be a Spengler than a Venkman.

"Furthermore, Dr. Venkman is granted all rights that might need to be exercised should Dr. Spengler not be available for consultation, and joint rights unless Dr. Venkman should not be available."

Peter read while she spoke, paying more attention to what was written as it would be binding.

"I've also included blind copies of the donor and surrogacy papers, so it is clear there is no one that could claim maternal rights to the eventual child. "I'll leave you to read over and discuss the provisions, in case there are any additional points you'd like addressed."

Peter and Egon finished reading at the same time.

"I'm sorry." Egon hadn't expected that the lawyer couldn't better contrive Peter's rights.

"It'll do what it needs to." He might only get three-fourths of the language, but he knew that this firm parsed their contracts so even the devil himself couldn't fight them. Any suit would be turned back before it could be filed. He'd just need to know what the hospital would consider as proof.

She stepped back in, and after several clarifications requested by Egon, they both signed off. Then it was just handshakes and they left, fed back through reception, bypassing the waiting room. Then, they were back on the street.

"Peter."

"Looking forward to getting out of this monkey suit." Peter was looking forward to being back at the firehouse. After a bust they could backslap and hug. Hell, he'd been known to kiss the guys after a close call, happy for the escape. His or theirs.

They rode the subway back, walked to the firehouse and went inside. Peter was wrapped in a hug and he clutched onto Egon tight. He spared a glance around the first floor. The Spud was hovering near the reception desk. Janine quickly looked back down at her work. He'd tease her later.

They brushed their lips together, then stepped apart, Peter brushing at Egon's suit. They crossed the vehicle bay and mounted the stairs.

* * *

"There's something Peter and I would like to talk to you about." Egon looked at Ray and Winston, then at Peter.

"We're having a baby!" It, the egg, had taken, and they should be parents in about thirty-three weeks. He had a lot of reading to do, but it was only fair that the guys know almost as soon as they did.

Ray looked at Peter and Egon and a big smile bloomed. He bear hugged Peter who was closer, then switched to Egon. He gave Winston a hug too for good measure.

"A baby?", Winston asked from Ray's embrace, looking at Peter and not quite able to turn all the way to Egon.

"When a daddy and another daddy--" Peter stopped when he felt Egon giving him the 'desist' look. "Egg donor, surrogate, whole nine months." He looked between his friends. "We've got about eight months to get this place ready." Peter got a repeat armful of Ray, and he held on, ruffling his friend's hair. "Winston?"

Winston slowly smiled. They would be clueless, just like most new parents. "Not moving out?"

"We've got to have the best square feet for the money right here." Peter looked between Ray and Winston. "We are going to have to make some changes to the firehouse, safety proof and so forth."

"I'll read over the guideline specifications", Ray volunteered.

"We'll need to put in a nursery, soundproof it against the alarm bell, wire it for a baby monitor." Winston thought about how space was currently set up. Even after the containment unit blew, they'd kept almost entirely to the firehouse's floorplan as it had been before it had been outgrown by #8. Peter's office was an egregious example of that, though it did however exert a presence over a certain type of client, the very type Winston gave thanks that they were Peter's problem. Maybe they could revamp the second floor. Both the living room and kitchen had been designed for a full fire crew, not just four men.

"What are we going to do in the busy season?", Ray asked.

"Um." Peter hadn't considered it, he tried to forget the busy season as soon as it was over. Apparently he'd been all too successful. He looked at Egon.

"We'll figure that out."

Ray gave everyone another round of hugs, and then headed off to start his research.

Peter was surprised when Winston pulled him into a hug. He was less so when his hair was ruffled. He sank into hugging back. "We're good?"

Winston pulled back, grinning. "Yeah, homeboy." He gave Egon a one-armed hug with shoulder-thump from his other hand. "Front row seats." He also walked off.

Peter looked at Egon. "We'll need to talk to Janine." He'd wanted to tell all three at the same time, but she'd had some sort of appointment he hadn't known about.

"She knows."

Peter blinked. "She does?" He looked at Egon. "Since when?" So help him if Egon told her this morning...

"Since I arranged for the surrogate."

"Oh." Weeks and weeks then. "Okay." Melnitz could walk on kittentoes even in her heels. He'd see if she was really okay, or just putting a good face on things. He switched focus. "What _are_ we going to do during the busy season?" Peter thought some more. "Night emergencies..." Some busts really couldn't wait. They'd seen incidents where the would-have-been customer had tried to hold out until day rates.

Egon wrapped his arms around Peter, leaning against his head with his cheek.

* * *

Peter noticed Slimer hanging out near Janine's desk as he came down the stairs. He wondered why, but whatever kept him from being slimed so often. Peter hitched one cheek onto Janine's desk as he looked through the mail. "You okay?" He regarded her gimlet eye. "With the baby. With Egon and I having a baby?"

"Having baby." Slimer wove and bobbed around, swinging wide around Peter and Janine.

"'Egon and me.'" Correcting Peter's grammar was cheap fun. If he minded he'd stop the dumb act. "It was a surprise." Egon still hadn't told Peter. Damned if she would. "I think you'll make a lovely mother." She smiled wide.

Peter started to take the bait, then thought of his mom. "Think so?" She'd done pretty right under hard conditions. Barring his dad, she'd been an excellent judge of character. He spared a thought for Mrs. Berkowitz, and Mrs. Pulchowski, Annie O'Riley and the others. He'd never woken up with any of them dead, not when he spent the night.

Mrs. Thomas did slip off while he sat with her. He'd come home after football practice, to find his mother had hardly slept while he'd been at school. No matter where they lived, there were always old women. His mother and they looked after each other best as they could. He'd not thought of Mrs. Thomas, in years. She called him by name right before she went on; he'd thought she'd thought he was her son.

Janine tapped Peter on the leg. "Yeah." She didn't know where he'd been just now, but it reminded her of the marshmallow he was inside. And he would be, a good mother. She stood, and gave him a peck on the cheek. "Now haul your ass outta my way, some of us are working."

Peter chuckled as he followed 'orders'.

Slimer looked after Peter, then resumed hovering near Janine's desk.

* * *

 _Weeks later_

Winston watched as Janine dashed for the washroom. He had a paper cup of water waiting for her when she returned. He was more than a little suspicious. She'd not mentioned anyone that she was seeing, but considering the way things had been--

"Thanks, Winston." Janine sat the paper cup down, drained.

"Janine." He looked her over.

"Can we kept this a secret, just for a little while?" She should have figured Winston, who had sisters, would catch on. Especially with her 'Old Faithful' impression.

"Anyone I need to talk to?"

She smiled. "That's sweet. It really is." She looked at him. "Promise?"

"How little awhile?" She didn't answer just looked at him sweetly. "Okay. But if you do need me to talk to someone, you'll let me know, right?" He swallowed. "Or, anything else."

"Winston." She hugged him. She was tearing up, was so very emotional right now. She held on. Finally, she pushed away. "Thanks."

"Promise?" Winston was very serious.

She kissed two fingers and pressed them over Winston's heart. "Promise." She watched Winston move back to Ecto. She was going to have to tell Egon to speak to Peter.

* * *

"Roller waitresses?!" Peter looked at the Guggenheim, lights highlighting its curves in the Manhattan night. So he had thought that skating down the ramp would be fun.

Ray was tinkering with his latest device. "They had a pinball retrospective. It was amazing."

Egon looked up from his PKE meter, and pushed the bridge of his glasses. "The pinball machines and related paintings were but one part of that exhibition."

Winston chuckled as he pulled Ecto into the loading area. He parked and got out, pulled open the tailgate. The museum wanted to keep it quiet that they had not been experimenting in performance art, so they were busting after hours. "They've signed the waivers?"

Peter nodded. "Janine's got the papers in triplicate."

"That is not carte blanche for breakage." Egon pulled on his pack while keeping his eyes on his sensors.

"No vigilante art criticism." Peter lowered his Boy Scout salute and swung on Betsy. "Let's make money." He flipped the power switch and led his friends inside.

* * *

 _More weeks later_

Ray looked at Janine, really looked at Janine. His eyes went wide, and he looked around to see if anyone had wandered in. "Um-" She was glowing, not in any eldritch spooky sense, just a natural bloom. He smiled wide, then held it... What if she didn't want--

Janine gave him a hug, he was tying himself into knots and it showed on his face and his whole body. "It's okay." She hadn't quite managed to tell Egon the what for, and he'd clearly not gotten a clue on his own. Half the boroughs would know something was up when Peter found out.

Ray hugged her tight, started to lift her then settled her back on the floor. He took her by the hands instead, vibrating with excitement.

She pulled Ray back to her and leaned into him. Damn Egon not telling Peter. It had left her fudging matters first with Winston, and now with Ray. She hated fibbing to Ray. It was worse than explaining Santa Claus to her nephews. Her brother still nitted her about saying there was a better deal by taking delivery before the big rush.

Janine snuggled in tighter, trying to get Ray to let out the really great hug he was restraining. "I'm not fragile, just pregnant."

Peter missed the last stair, and hit the floor hard with his heel, hanging by his hand from the banister. The pit of his stomach was telling him that this was no coincidence.

Janine turned, looked at Peter's slackjawed expression and did the only thing that made sense. She hit the alarm. As Winston appeared from the basement and Egon's legs showed on the firepole, she shut it off. "Company meeting."

Peter had righted himself and they all joined Janine and Ray at about the same time. The look Melnitz shot Egon confused him. Peter watched Egon swallow, his eyes not quite meeting Janine's, while a flush spread up from his collar.

Janine wanted to kick keister but Egon's was too high. She could see that Peter knew, in his heart, but she was not going to be the one to tell him. "As you all know, I'm pregnant." She sat down. Egon could damn well deal with this mess, she'd given him his cue. She really wanted another hug.

"Janine is Peter's and my surrogate." Egon looked on in confusion as Janine rested her head on her desk.

"What?!" Peter turned to look straight at Egon. 'Knowing' and hearing it stated bald-faced were two different things. Months. No wonder Janine knew when they told the guys. He fought back laughter unbecoming to a psychologist. He was very aware that Ray and Winston were motionless. Peter slowly walked over to Janine's chair and knelt down. She wasn't crying. That was good. Of course, she wasn't cursing up a storm and that wasn't like Janine. He rubbed her back between her shoulders, then tipped her face to look at him once she lifted her head. Janine looked at him in confusion and Peter kissed her on the forehead. He looked back at Egon, who was looking right at them and clearly at a loss for something to do. Peter then glanced over at Winston and Ray and decided they'd hold.

He turned again to Janine. "Sorry about Gherkin making you heave." He looked down at her stomach, then back into her eyes. "Mind if I say hi?" His left hand hovered until he got a green light smile, and then it was softly settling on Janine's tummy. "Hey in there." He was at a loss for words, and then he felt a little thump against his hand. "Gherkin?" He got another one, and he looked at Janine. "It's not done that before?" The answer had been written on her face. "Egon, get over here." He listened to the footsteps, then looked up, Egon still standing straight and one step back. At least he was looking Janine in the eye, though he looked ready to bolt.

Peter pulled him down and guided Egon's left hand over Janine's stomach. "Say something."

"Hello." Egon smiled at the pressure against his hand and looked at Peter. They crouched there for several minutes.

"That's enough, visiting time is over." She knew they, Peter and Egon, needed to talk, and she was rather floored herself. "Yes, you'll get time tomorrow too." She smiled shyly at the way Peter lit up like a red-carpet premier.

They drew themselves up, and Peter herded Egon upstairs. Janine looked over at Ray, who'd gotten around to the other side of her desk. "Spill."

Ray held up the camera. "I'll know once I get them developed."

Winston coughed, and waggled the camera in his hand.

Janine laughed and spread out her arms and 'come here'ed with her fingers. She stood and hitched herself onto her desk. She grabbed Ray and Winston by the hands and placed their palms on her stomach. "Sorry I didn't say more."

Winston nodded. He looked at Ray, who gave him a smile. Winston smiled when he felt a definite kick. He saw when Ray felt one, and grinned just a bit wider. He kissed Janine on the temple and gave her a hug before stepping away.

Ray gave her another hug, a full stuffing hug and a big cheek smooch and another quick hug before he went after Winston with both cameras.

* * *

Peter paced. He was feeling way too many emotions at once. Giddy with euphoria at feeling the kick, furious with Egon's utter disregard for interpersonal dynamics. This was years of awkward. "There won't be any surprises about the egg?" He looked at Egon, half in a panic. "You didn't get it from someone in your family not your cousin? Or from a cousin after we talked?" Egon could parse questions like a Vulcan when he chose. Peter had used that well when he had been juggling girls in college.

Egon stood, uncertain.

"Clearly, you knew I wouldn't agree to the stunt you've pulled. No, I get to talk first. If you hadn't known, you'd have discussed it with me and I would have told you what I'm telling you now. Janine loves you. That means you don't ask her to do anything that's not in her best interest. Or her job description. Which, you could say is in her best interest, but you have to get that she will do things to win your regard, even though they hurt her."

Peter's eyes flashed when Egon started to justify his actions. "You can't have this both ways. And right now, that's how it feels. Janine's going to give birth to our child. She's always going to be one up on me."

Egon swallowed, forcing enough saliva to speak. "That was never my intention." He couldn't mention how he'd felt when he saw Peter feel their child move, at Peter's delight.

He had not considered how Peter would react once he found out. How he would feel.

"Intentions are funny things. This is going to hurt her, Egon. She's going to watch us raise the child she gave birth to, and wish it were you and her playing house."

Egon realized he'd discounted Peter's judgment even before hearing the arguments. Because he knew, because he'd known that Peter would consider the price too high. Egon just didn't know why, and he hadn't wanted to. He'd wanted to give Peter more than his science could grant. "Peter." There was nothing he could say that would correct things.

"The worst part of this," Peter turned to look right at Egon. "The worst part of this is I doubt Janine will take this as proof that she was lucky she lost you."

Egon reacted to the pain behind the sharp words. "She never had me. I acknowledge her regard for me was flattering. But she was never so maddeningly obstinate as you." Peter was prone to doubt, and Egon wasn't unaware how his actions might, reasonably but incorrectly, be interpreted.

"Spengs?" He'd asked, once, if Egon had had a thing for him, that predated their first kiss. "You'd--" Peter realized he'd not been told 'no', he'd interpreted Egon's answer as no. He'd needed not to be the only dense one.

"Only in hindsight. I'd never known anyone like you. Since we've become lovers, possible precursors have come to mind." He realized he'd been wrong again. "I am sorry about asking Janine without consulting with you first."

Peter sagged onto the couch. He rubbed his face with his hands. He looked up. "Come here." Peter encouraged Egon with his hands and swallowed in relief as Egon settled beside him, and he stroked Egon's arms. He'd learned early that doghousing the scientist for more than a few minutes undid hours of positive reinforcement. Peter leaned against Egon's back. "Didn't I raise you better than this?"

What had Egon said to Janine? He knew she knew he was being end-runned. He couldn't be mad at her. He could be excused for briefly hoping that one of his guys had won the swim race. Regardless, he wouldn't have the operant conditioning to work against.

"Just, let me do the talking with Janine for the time being, 'kay?"

* * *

Janine let herself into the firehouse and halted when she saw Peter sitting on her desk. "You've had an early morning." The florists weren't open yet, but there was an eclectic arrangement on her desk in a very familiar vase. "How's the Market?" She continued over to her desk, hung up her coat, sat down, put her purse in its drawer.

"The usual." He turned around. "Janine--"

"Dr. V--"

They jockeyed for a moment and Peter conceded to her.

"I really thought he'd tell you. Not just let you find out, not go blurt it on out in front of the guys."

"Did you? No, I'm not mad. How are you?"

"Good. 'Gherkin?'"

"It's bigger than a 'Peanut' now and... Well, they're smallish and cute."

"Maybe not." She shook her head. How she saw Egon and what he did... "I still expect more than's delivered. You okay?"

"You know I'd lie until I was."

"I know." Janine felt he wasn't quite there, yet.

Peter nodded. He thought back, realizing that she'd been 'with?' their child when he'd talked to her about, stuff. "Did you mean what you said?"

"About visiting time? Sure." He looked rather sweet when he wasn't scamming.

"About me being a good mother." He knew she'd first meant it as a crack, but barbs were their common coin.

She grabbed his hand, held it tight. More slowly, she answered. "Yes." She'd meant it before, and he so clearly needed to hear it again. It stung, just as it stung that it was his hand she held and not a husband's. She placed his hand on her belly.

Peter kissed her on the forehead. He was supposed to be making sure she was okay, not asking her to shore up his insecurities. He rubbed her tummy as she looked at him; he didn't know how to classify her expression. "Sorry."

"Did you ever give any of those women a chance? Or was undercutting yourself safer?"

He shrugged and then the baby rolled and Peter's eyes lit up. Janine watched him react. Like black coffee it was bitter and bliss.

* * *

Peter turned the page. It'd been a long time since he'd studied this hard. He'd pounded two prenatal development books since learning Janine was carrying the baby, and now he was struggling to catch up to his schedule. The summer he'd dedicated to early childhood development. He'd slipped into the college bookstore as the fall term started and bought the books for Childhood Psychology and Issues of the Gifted Child.

The latter had him pretty angry. While some of the stuff he was reading was cutting edge, Hollingworth was publishing in the 1920s and 30s. Even allowing for institutional lag, her findings that highly gifted children weren't emotionally deficient but were faced by "the infrequency of persons who are like-minded" and the more gifted "the less often can he find a truly congenial companion" were published in 1936. Egon started first grade already reading ancient history. Peer interaction his ass.

Peter had seen a picture Egon had drawn in the second grade, once when Peter followed Egon to Ohio for a break. It was a frog. Properly labeled for Biology 101. Looked like a number 3 pencil and some crayons as the media. Had a little red checkmark in the corner, and the teacher's name under Egon's. It was supposed to be for a fairytale. Mrs. Spengler had it framed, and in a drawer. His junior high science fair project was published in a juried journal. He'd sat through HS math while he took, then proctored Calculus III at Case. All for 'socialization'.

That Egon, when Peter met him, was sleeping six hours and reading or conducting research for most of the other eighteen was part of a pattern. Egon's days were twelve hours long before he was eleven. He'd had no time for toys because after he came home from school, his mother taught him his lessons.

"I thought I'd find you down here." Egon stood in his nightshirt, a mug in each hand and one of their hands-free lights clamped under his arm. The main lights took forever to warm up. That was why Peter had so many desk lamps.

Peter took his mug, sipped and sat it down. "Guess I got caught up in my light reading." He put the outer wrapper for a Hersey's bar into his book and shut it. Egon flipped the textbook onto its back. Peter placed his hand over Egon's.

"Find yourself in there yet?" Egon brought his mug to his lips and sipped.

"What?" He pulled back from Egon. Peter picked up his mug and drank.

"Peter, no one could have done half the things you did with Tri Cuppa Brew while playing varsity and taking a full load of serious coursework while hiding same from your fratbrothers and made your G.P.A. without falling within the covers of that book." Egon sat his mug down, picked up the book and skimmed first the table of contents and then the index. He paged through and sat the book before Peter. "Weren't you ever given a Binet?"

"Stanford-Binet. No." Peter looked at the page Egon had found. "I was right on grade-level." He smiled. "Except penmanship. Amazing how much that's improved." He closed the book.

"Yes. Amazing." He'd once absently started reading it as Sumerian, and Peter's handwriting was still nearly as bad. Any worse, Egon shivered to contemplate. "What did it take to stay exactly on goal?" Egon had learned there were times to push, and times not to push Peter. "It's time for psychologists to be snug in their beds. Especially ones with a seven a.m. bust."

Peter started pulling chains and turning knobs on his lamps. "Pretty good. Next time, try 'to keep their physicists warm.'" He got up and stepped behind Egon. Yes, he should have been snug with his physicist in bed.

They headed upstairs.

* * *

Peter peered around the box he'd taken cover behind only to have another barrage of slingshot rubber gloves released. He pulled back without getting hit. They struck hard. "Where should we even be shooting?" They'd gotten cocky and split up and now they were each pinned down.

"The readings are confused, but Class Two or Three is--" Ray's explanation was cut short by a sudden smack.

Peter stood, firing such as to rake the area in front of him, moving for new cover. "Ray?"

"Just my pride."

Peter chuckled internally. It'd take more than a hit on his ass to stop Ray. "Regroup."

It took time, but they managed to meet up, and they formed a donut, the beams lashing out as they stood back to back, weaving and bobbing as one.

"So, why are we doing something this easy so quickly? I saw the call came in yesterday." Peter prided themselves on being better than this. A Class Two or Three infestation should be nothing.

"This is cutting into their bottom-line." Winston didn't continue, but focused on the bust.

Ray slagged a highspeed lunchbox. He saw that a bin of full-length chemical gloves were knotting themselves together. "It's learning!" Ray kept his mind full of "Na Na Hey Hey Kiss Him Goodbye". He didn't want it using his thoughts against his friends.

"Pinwheel!" They spun clockwise on Peter's call, beams intercepting or going wide according to chance.

"Traps out!" Four clunks responded. "Wait for it."

Winston called out. "STOMP!"

Four fans of intense light shone up to the ceiling girders. The maelstrom of material dropped and four clouds were sucked into the traps like smoke bombs time reversed.

Egon checked the PKE meter. "Clear."

"Where do they keep their release powder?" Peter shipped his thrower once he was sure nothing was playing possum.

Ray pointed down a corridor. Peter took out his own meter, and headed in the indicated direction. Once they all arrived, and Peter gave it a complete circuit, Egon asked, "Peter."

"Needed to make sure it wasn't charged. We've had that happen, materials that were delivered haunted." Peter took out a bandanna and wiped his face. "I don't know HVACs, but I'd bet they have a fine particle problem. And that those particles were sucking up the workers' feelings about this place."

"I'll figure out something for you to tell them." Ray handed Winston Ecto's keys.

Peter tallied up the bill, including the 'expedite' surcharge, and adding 'engineering consultation'. His own bullshitting was included in the standard charges. He looked at his watch and noted that on the bill also, rounded to the quarter-hour. "Home, boys."

* * *

Egon pulled Peter from Ecto, letting him wake already in motion. "Packs are charging, traps are empty, but you have to take your shower yourself."

"By myself?" Peter was merely piteous, not flirty.

"Yes, Peter." Egon considered that option, with a much more rested Peter. Something to research during the summer. Yes. For now Egon focused on getting him upstairs and into the bathroom.

They switched off once Peter was done. Finished, Egon headed to their room. He pulled the blankets from Peter's shoulders. Bare. Egon quickly shed his robe as he headed back to hang it in the door, then slipped into bed. Peter shimmied back into him. Egon skimmed his hands down Peter's arms and kissed him on the nape.

"Love the thought. Turnip, blood." Peter sighed as the kisses trailed down his spine. He was exhausted, but this was too good to raincheck. He started to roll over.

Egon held Peter's hands by the wrists. "Permit me."

"Wake me up if I snore." Peter gasped as Egon licked his spine. This, whatever it was, was going to be good. The kisses continued down. Peter was surprised by the nip just under one side of his ass. "I'm awake." He was taking no chances that Egon might stop.

Egon kissed Peter's ass. Over and over, one cheek and then the other, switching back and forth. He turned under the blankets and followed one thigh. He laved behind the knee, stilling Peter with his legs. Finally he continued to the connected calf, and then Peter's ankle.

Peter was grateful Egon had him weighted down, because this was next to being tickled though so much better. He stretched his toes to give easier access. He moaned as Egon switched to the other foot. It shouldn't be possible for Egon's footrubs to get better.

Egon moved to Peter's ankle, along his calf and into the back of Peter's knee. Egon turned around and adjusted Peter who'd started humping the bed. He cupped Peter's balls in one hand, then grasped him at the base of his cock.

"Thanks." Peter had been too close. Hot slick was spread between his inner thighs, and Egon stretched over him, straddled him, and rocked his world.

Egon pistoned, balancing on one hand and stroking his other over Peter's chest. He started to break and he clasped Peter in his grip to pull him along. They went over one after the other.

Peter struggled against sleep and rolled over under Egon, throwing an arm across his back. He sought Egon's lush mouth. He lost his battle against sleep.

Egon followed, 'stone, come' his final thoughts.

* * *

Winston couldn't ignore the unease he felt, despite not placing its cause. It wasn't that Egon and Peter were having a baby. He'd accepted that they loved each other, as assuredly as his mom and dad did. He felt bad that it had taken him time to realize that and that he'd hurt his friends in his ignorance. He considered that it might be he was uncomfortable with science so intimately involved in pregnancy, and that with Janine as the surrogate he couldn't ignore this discomfort as he had when Peter and Egon first shared their news.

It came to him that part of it was that Janine was the surrogate. He'd figured it was Peter's place to speak to Egon, considering her affection for the physicist. What he hadn't included in his thoughts was that Janine was their employee. She was one fourth _his_ employee. And two of his partners were using her to carry their baby.

It was a mess. Peter technically could fire her. He wouldn't, but he could, and that opened them to all sorts of risks, risks that could destroy the business, and with it the family they'd made.

He'd been surprised when he'd been made a partner. Apparently, the other three had discussed the matter right after defeating Gozer, well, after showers, food and sleep, and only their realization of how much in the hole they were stopped them. He'd been unaware that while he was drawing his pay, they plowed nearly everything back into the business, just to cut it into four instead of keeping to their thirds.

* * *

Janine looked at herself in the mirror, swinging the skirt of the trapeze dress. So far her legs still looked great, and she had a bit more chest than usual, and the dress played both up. The color band hit right under her breasts, functioning like an empire waist.

It wouldn't fool her mother. Janine shrugged into her coat and headed out. Ever since the boys, well, since Nathan was three, her mom insisted they do up the holidays. Not that that had anything to do with Trudie having come from a Conservative home.

Normally, it was fun if a little odd, considering how low-key they'd done most of them when she was a kid. This year, it was going to be awkward. She got onto the subway, and an older man gave her his seat. No, her mother wasn't going to miss her state.

She almost wished she was at the Firehouse. She smiled as she thought back to the first time Peter explained to a customer "holiday pricing" for Rosh Hoshanna. She figured it was only a matter of time before Eid was added. Peter liked to open the door before Opportunity needed to knock.

Too soon it was her stop and she was walking towards her parents' and her assorted kin therein. Chutzpah and moxie would just have to see her through. She went upstairs and slipped out of her coat and hung it up. In low heels, the press of people hid her arrival from people further in. She headed for nibbles against the back wall, dodging various kids and doling out kisses and hair ruffles by height.

Janine got through the first half hour and tomato-y fishballs before she felt her mother's eyes on her. She carved another ten minutes of reprieve out of a shoelace 'emergency' Elliott was having. "Mom." Janine pointedly didn't hide her hands as her mother looked her over.

A touch zaftig, and her hair no longer any color nature had granted, she was still good-looking. "You've not talked about your boss lately." Nina looked at the swell of her daughter's belly, and the distinct absence of a ring.

"They're partners."

"And you're the secretary." Nina could grant that her daughter aimed high, as well she should, Janine was pretty. Now, if you could split the difference between Venkman and Stantz, you'd have something. She wondered if she knew anyone that had a son or a plumber like that. She'd moved Janine towards a corner and looked down. "That's not going to get you a promotion."

"Mom!" The party continued oblivious, having long learned that refrain. "It's not like that at all."

"Oh?" She didn't believe that, since Janine hadn't said anything sooner.

"It's not mine, I'm having it for a friend." Which wasn't a lie. She became concerned when her mother didn't come up with a quick retort.

"Your womb's not a sweater." It came out loud into a lull of the background roar.

"Can't put it on backwards."

Janine was killing her brother. She heard the 'umph' caused by her sister-in-law's sharp elbow, and smiled.

"Janine?" Murray stepped from behind someone, and looked over his daughter's shoulder as he clasped her by the arms. He looked at either hand, then at Nina.

"Pop." She grabbed his hands in hers. She turned, then led him to a chair, staring the relative from it. She bent down at the knees and waist, wondering how much longer she'd so be able to manage. "I'm having a child for good friends."

"Who are you such great friends with? You wouldn't lend a sweater to most of your girls."

"Pop!"

"Not to point out only you, Cheryl and Peggy don't have kids."

"Margaret's a nun."

"Wasn't in high school."

Janine looked at her other brother and stood up. "And you wonder why you're divorced."

"And you're just knocked up. Didn't think Spengler had it in you."

"You have the right to shut your lip." Ralph grabbed his brother and muscled him towards the bathroom. "Don't worry Mom, I'll wash his mouth out. Still have a bar of Lava?"

"Same bar." Nina looked at Janine. "Kugel, you need kugel." She went to get her daughter a new plate.

"Friends?" He kept a hand on Janine. Ralph just might use the soap with an audience.

"Yeah, Pop."

He supposed the Stantz boy might manage to marry without a bunch of hoopla. Proof the papers weren't about news. Venkman couldn't, man made everything a three-ring circus, so that was a relief. "I rate a hug?"

Janine squeezed him hard and then her mom was shoving food on her. She let herself be settled into the chair her dad popped out of.

"Appetite back, or didn't you have morning sickness?"

Janine looked up at her sister. "More like afternoon and evening sickness. Been over for awhile." Good thing, her mom's food was one-way only. "How's Victor?"

"I think he's growing out of some of his more annoying traits."

Janine hoped that was true. "Richard traveling?"

"Yeah, business trip." Lisa stuck out her chin. "Who's the father?"

"I'm having the baby for friends."

"Most people would just give china." Lisa bent down. "Must be really good friends."

Janine smiled. "The best."

"We need to do a sisters night. Without Victor."

Janine laughed. "Bake cookies and facials?"

"Sure. Guess we better plan that soon?"

"Yeah."

"I'll call you." She straightened out of her crouch and waded into the crush of kin.

"You don't have a right to an attorney."

Janine clasped the hand on her shoulder. "Ralph."

"Mom's cooking got you all mellow yet?"

"No need to play bad cop. But go get Trudie so I don't feel like a broken record."

Ralph whistled with his fingers in his mouth, then waved at his wife. She headed towards them.

Janine shook her head.

"We never lose our place in a line." Ralph opened his arms and let his wife tuck in at his side.

Trudie smiled. "I do it too. How are you, Janine?"

"Not overstuffed for a change. The baby belongs to a couple that couldn't have it on their own. Not my egg, I'm just the oven for this bun." She patted her tummy. "There any more peach blintzes?" Unlike the firehouse, if she got up, she couldn't expect having a chair to come back to.

"That's my cue." Ralph detached and went into the breech at the buffet.

Trudie stepped closer. "Will the child be raised Jewish?"

"Culturally." She wondered how that would shake out in practice. She considered that Mrs. Spengler didn't know yet. She wanted forewarning on that.

"Mazel tov." Trudie smiled as Janine looked up. "Two out of three is good odds. The hat trick really isn't in the parents' control anyway. Would you like to come to dinner? I always make enough, Ralph might have to skip leftovers occasionally. Just call ahead."

Ralph appeared and handed over the plate. "What, the beets were lonely."

* * *

"The child will need a name." Egon pulled back the covers as they both got into bed.

Peter was mostly asleep on his feet, make that ass, even after his shower. It felt like his every waking moment was spent busting. He got into Ecto half-asleep, and was often half-comatose when he got out at the end of their 'day'. He lay down. "Name, we already decided. You proposing? Doesn't work like that."

Egon ignored Peter's stream of consciousness blather. "A first name."

"Oh." He struggled to get his brain back in gear. "You don't have choices for me to vote on?"

"I'd like us to exchange lists."

"Can I have the week?" He yawned wide and just smiled lopsidedly.

"Yes, Peter."

"Spoon?" He wiggled as Egon wrapped himself around Peter. He was out before the light.

* * *

Winston had to do something. Janine needed to be more than their employee; recognizing a problem only made you that much more culpable if you did nothing to correct the matter. He wasn't comfortable broaching it with Peter or Egon; however if being a partner meant anything he needed this on the table. "Ray. Got a moment?"

Ray looked up from the equipment bench. "Sure."

"I've been thinking, I want to say I appreciate you cutting me into the business, but I think Janine needs to be brought in too. Maybe as a half-share, she's normally not on the front lines, but she's bailed us out when we've needed her. I know you guys didn't have to bring me in--"

"We did. We'd never have stopped Gozer without you." Ray stopped to think of all they'd been through. "But you are right about Janine. She's held this place together through a lot. Sandman, Proteus." Ray unplugged the soldiering iron and wiped his hands with a rag, and headed for the stairs.

Winston followed.

* * *

Ray found them in the lab, Peter asleep on the couch. "What are you working on, Egon?"

"Routine data gathering, ectoplasm cohesion levels. You needed me?"

Ray crossed to wake up Peter, by dropping the bolster right before his hands. Shortly Peter was awake, as his mind grasped the pillow wasn't a body.

"Huh?" Peter sat up, bolster forgotten on his lap. "Another bust?"

"No, m'man. Packs are still cycling." They'd gone through both sets, their primaries half-charged. If something happened, they'd have to buy time with the 'fifth' pack.

"We needed to talk about Janine. It's time to make her a partner." Ray noticed Peter's squint. "Remember Killerwatt and the generator bike? Or Sandman?"

"Proteus." Not to mention the haunted geranium. Egon returned to his research.

Peter rolled his shoulders and stretched his neck.

"We thought a half share would work, since she's not really on busts, but you know she's right here when things are tough." Ray looked between Peter and Egon. "It's only fair." He waited, knowing that exhausted Peter was a bit slower with figures.

"So we all go from 25 percent to shy of 23 percent. Ray, you are aware you started at a bit more than 33 percent?" Peter considered the savings in overtime and unemployment insurance.

"And she's been part of our shares being worth more than debts to the bank. You know we couldn't handle busts and schedule them efficiently, not during the busy season."

"The busy season being what gets us through July and August." Winston had seen that clearly once he became a partner.

Ray continued their case. "You know she's been put through a lot, besides coming after us. The Netherworld doesn't see her as a secretary."

"It's not like ghosts acknowledge noncombatants." Winston really didn't want to dress Peter down, but he would.

Peter noticed Winston's concerned expression and shot him a smile. It wasn't lost on him that their secretary having their kid looked Super Bad. "Egon." He looked over, seeing Madame Science had him again. "We need a vote here, Egon."

Egon looked up from the notation he'd made. "Janine, half partner."

Winston and Ray also chimed, "Janine, half partner."

"Okay, Janine made a half partner, once she signs the paperwork, by unanimous assent." He picked up the pillow, tossed it onto the couch behind him and lay back down. "That everything? We have a bust before she comes in? We should tell her together." Peter sprawled back into his nap.

* * *

They ended up leaving a few hours before false dawn, packs no worse than if they'd done a few busts already. They'd grabbed lunch to go from the Mongolian buffet they had a purchase order with, one of the staff running out with bags as they pulled to the curb at a rolling stop.

By mid-afternoon they no longer could squeegee the ectoplasm off, and they needed the backups anyway, so they squealed into the firehouse. They all got out and started towards Janine's desk, until Peter halted them They were squelching. He looked behind them, and the nasty footprints they'd tracked. "Janine, you come here."

"What, conserving your voice, Dr. V?" She pushed back her chair and slid her feet into her shoes, before standing, arms braced on her desk top. She walked over to them. "Whatta you want?"

"A shower, but first we wanted to welcome you as a junior partner, if you'll have us. A half share. Unless you'd like to wind up like this and I answer the phones?" Peter resisted throwing his hand down, knowing there'd be a splatter.

"You're not yanking my chain? Really?" Her eyes went flinty. "Why?"

Peter deflected, "You know the books are in order. Actually, Winston brought it up. We agreed. You've got our back, and this makes us worth more to you. Whatta you say?"

"Go get cleaned up. I take it no one's ringed the lawyer? I'll give them a call. Who's got aisle clean up?" She turned and headed back to the desk.

Peter grabbed traps, Winston handed Egon a pack and grabbed two more. Ray pulled the rest of the traps and his pack. Egon, stripped out of his boots and uniform, headed up for first shower. Peter took the traps from Ray and ran back down to containment. Winston stripped down to his street clothes and headed upstairs. Ray filled the mop bucket and rolled it over, swabbing back towards Ecto.

Peter came up from the basement, glancing at Ray. He smiled as Ray nodded he should go upstairs.

Janine hung up the phone and looked up to see Ray leaning into the back seat. "Spill!"

Ray withdrew from Ecto and looked at Janine a little perplexed. Looking between the floor and his boots, he undid his laces, took off the boots with two distinct 'pops' and padded over to Janine's desk.

She knew choreography when she saw it. "So, what really brought this on?"

"Huh? Oh, we should have done this earlier. After Proteus, Sandman... We just didn't think about it. Guess we took you for granted. Winston brought it up."

"Oh, Ray. Go on up. Don't let Dr. V use all the hot water." She smiled at him and he grinned.

Ray carried his boots and rolled the bucket back to the utility sink, dumping it and giving it a rinse. He went upstairs.

Winston and Egon, then Peter just behind came down the pole. They each got into clean uniforms and fresh boots, taking a moment to deal with the worst that was on the boots they'd been wearing. Peter took care of Ray's and ran back to the pole with the replacements. Ray slid down, kitted up and they barreled out for the remainder of their schedule.

Janine pumped her arm and gave herself a sitting spin, then answered the phone, scheduling busts.

* * *

Peter opened his desk drawer and offered the list to Egon, who kept the sheet folded and quickly wrote out his choices. Egon unfolded Peter's as Peter sat. He should have expected that Peter wouldn't provide a long list. Five choices each, ten names total.

Peter looked at Egon's list. He tried reading them, forming them on his lips. "Egon, can you call out any of these? _I'd_ need to be able to, and honestly I don't think I can." It wasn't funny at all, if he'd have to wait for Egon to say the kid's name. Boy could his mother belt out his middle name. Smoked him out fast.

"You are aware all of these names are saints and/ or martyrs." Egon did give Peter credit that neither Christine nor Charles, or any variations thereof appeared.

"I guess. Round two, then. Have pity on me this time."

"Peter."

"I worked hard on that list. And there are a _lot_ of saints and martyrs."

"These aren't just any" Egon paused, changing tactic. "These are all well-represented in art and architecture. Cathedrals included."

Peter looked at his desk blotter.

"Though, that's not my objection to Katherine. If I didn't know you'd call her 'Kitty', I'd be pleased to so honor your mother." He would not risk a chain of events he could see following from that seemingly innocent failing.

Peter quirked his lips, finally saying "Guess you know me too well."

"Well-enough. None of those suggest alternatives to you?"

"No? Egon, how about choices with no more than three syllables?" He suspected plenty of good names were currently 'in use' on Egon's side and thus ineligible. Otherwise he might have included Maureen.

Egon thought, then wrote down some more names. He slid the paper to Peter.

"These are better?" Okay, he could pronounce them. But he felt like he'd fallen into the Met during a season with no Italian operas. Several of them required eight-legged horses. "I'm not sure I'm prepared to name a daughter Gertrude." That was one of the better ones. "Um, how about we both think on this a little longer? It's not like Janine's popping next week." She did look like she was shoplifting a turkey, but it was good on her. "It's been a long day." He thought about soaping up Egon's back. Something for a car show and comic con weekend.

"Agreed."

* * *

Winston looked at Ray, then into the backseat. During the busy season he needed the adrenaline of the younger man's driving.

At first, the random name dropping Egon and Peter engaged in was funny. Egon's were a bit unusual, and occasionally Winston turned wondering why a great-aunt or a great-great uncle was being mentioned, until he came back to the moment. Peter's were all much more, average. It took him awhile to place them as all New Testament or post-biblical.

Now, the two hardly said anything save work or increasingly bit out names. Peter and Egon were getting entrenched and that didn't bode well for anyone.

Winston decided it was time for an intervention. "What about Deborah, or Daniel?"

Peter responded. "Do you have any idea how many Debbies there are? Lots. Dallas."

It took Winston a moment, then agreed if he caught it, wits would be faster. Little Debbie's. He thought back and recalled classes where girls decided which was Debbie and which Deborah.

"And Danny? You'd think any of the drinking songs would come to mind first." Peter scowled as Ray started humming Danny Boy.

Well, that explained why Patrick hadn't come up. And, he had a bad feeling that all of the, less obscure, Old Testament names had been 'overexposed'. He decided to try one more. "Isabel?"

Egon replied. "Nor Ferdinand."

Winston thought a moment, "Oh." He stepped in that one.

Egon realized Winston was trying to be helpful "I already offered Elisheba."

Peter chimed in "Lippy Libby."

"Could you table it for business hours?" Winston was surprised at his shortness. "Just, you're not making any progress."

Peter twisted his mouth and rubbed his forehead. Winston turned back straight ahead. Peter's hand on Egon's knee and then Egon's hand on Peter's knee went unobserved. Winston saw their faces relax in reflection.

* * *

Peter ran down the catwalk, the metallic ring echoing in the factory. He had no breath for wisecracks. It was a series of concrete boxes, relieved only by a band of windows high above the workfloor. It was then filled with vats, pipes, machinery and routes to service it all. Early Modernist Hell.

He ducked into a crouch and spun, dropped to one knee stream lashing out. One pack didn't do much against the higher classifications. Egon and Ray were still hashing out just what they were dealing with. Tobin's didn't list these. 'These' was the double edge they were balancing on; the Netherbeings were mostly interested in their turf war. Why mess up your own place when Earth's available for your posturing needs? 'Mostly' was operative. Peter got up and continued his run.

The secret to baiting was surprise. Surprise could be brute, like when he lured ghosts in the heat of the moment. That tended to be for the goopers and lesser manifestations. The better Fives and aboves were too on the ball for that. You had to work to make them disregard you.

Then Peter was flying, two of their meal tickets having decided to combine their forces. He grabbed the heavy chain coming up fast and broke his flight, boots scrambling for purchase. As he spun wildly, a beam lashed out. Finding a hook to 'stand' on and looping his arm in Peter gave short bursts of cover. He felt like a crazy mix of a piñata and a disco ball.

The lurch didn't help his stomach, until he resolved that he was being lowered and wasn't falling. He let himself be drawn onto another walkway by Winston.

"You've gotta stop flying without a license." Winston quickly checked Peter over, before tapping him and starting a new run.

"I'm sure I've got some Girl Scout wings somewhere." They came to stairs and a ladder.

"Don't even think it. A pack will never fit through the hoops." Winston put Peter between the stairs and himself. He waited while Peter looked further up. Peter started down and Winston followed.

* * *

They stood by Ecto's open gate, Ray securing everything down. "What do we still have on plate?" Peter shrugged back into the sleeves of his coverall, the icy-burn of tiger balm working on his shoulders. He twisted this way and that, rocking from one leg to the other so as not to seize up. He listened to Ray's excited rundown. "Okay, we'll head to the Upper West side one, and then work across the next four geographically. What is the Wexton bust?"

Egon answered. "Class Four, we keep rescheduling it."

Peter placed it. "Right, right. So it won't surprise them when Janine calls again. Have her reschedule it somewhere firm, though." It kept getting rescheduled because it was a vacant, out of the way building, whose activity was time-linked. He gave everyone a tap, breaking up their huddle.

Hours and hours later they'd called it a day, well past their waffle supper. They unpacked Ecto and completed the post-bust chores. Peter dropped his right hand onto Egon's waist, sidling against him. He wanted Egon more than a shower. He smiled as he read Egon's assent, and followed him upstairs and into their room.

Peter leaned against the door, pulling Egon into a sweet kiss. He let himself be drawn towards the bed and raised his arms as Egon pulled his tshirt from him. Peter applied himself to unbuttoning Egon's shirt, slipping his hands inside and pulling out the tails of the ribbed cotton undershirt.

Peter held on, kissing Egon while he struggled out of his shirt. Peter kissed Egon on a revealed shoulder, then skinned off the intervening cloth, reattaching his mouth to Egon's. Egon freed them from their pants and underwear, and Peter pressed him into bed.

Their hands moved over the other's body, fingers digging into a knot, feathering over a bruise, as they slid together. Too soon they completed their ascent and fell with a rush. Peter palmed Egon's jaw and cheek, then started to slide to his side of their bed.

Egon rolled onto his side and held onto Peter, kissing him firmly. Sleep claimed them both.

* * *

Nina normally did not swoop down on her children at their place of employ. Sure, when Janine worked retail Nina did a little 'secret shopping', but never offices. She might have lunched near some of those positions. However, now was different.

Obviously, Janine hadn't been pregnant before. And, if what Janine said and the papers printed was accurate, her bosses would be out. Janine needed to eat. She was just bringing her a little lunch. Nina noticed as she approached the Firehouse that while there was new building in the vicinity, there was a margin that abutted the building that seemed to be abandoned. She noted there wasn't any of the junk that tended to accumulate in such spaces.

She pushed open the door. A swath of sunlight fell from the large windows, leaving the far corners in shadow. Her daughter was dwarfed by the cavernous space. What an ugly green lamp. The bulbous lamp turned. It started towards her!

"SLIMER!" The green gob turned back to Janine. "Slimer, you stay right here. You understand?" Janine got up, ducking the slime that shook off their mascot. "Mom? What are you doing here?" She crossed recognizing the wide eyed look. As she took her mother's arm she could smell the food.

"Shouldn't you be getting the phone?" Nina was glad she wasn't being taken closer to the green, thing. She sat on the low padded stool she was pushed onto.

"They're going into voicemail. You picked a fine time to join me for lunch." Janine could tell her mother was in shock from seeing Slimer. She opened the bag and cracked one of the sodas and handed it to her mother. "Ooh!" Janine started unpacking the lunch, then looked back over to Slimer. "This is my mom. If you slime her, so help me, you're going into a trap."

"Slime?"

"Think of him as a dog. A slobbery, ugly, dog."

"That's green and flies?"

Janine giggled. "Yeah. So, I know you weren't hit this morning with a sudden need to cook and bring the results into the city. You're checking up on me." She bit into the hot sandwich.

"Do you blame me?" Nina peeked again at the green bobbing mass. It had turned, so its eyes weren't facing her. "So, is it like the cobbler's kids not having shoes?"

"It's complicated." Janine was still confused why he was hovering around so much. The firehouse, sure, he tended to stay close during the busy season, but her? He wasn't even begging treats, just hanging around as if he was waiting for Something. "He's a pet." Janine threw herself into eating.

Nina picked at her portion. "Are you sure this is the right sort of work for you?"

Janine sat down her sandwich and put up her 'my mouth is full so I can't speak' finger and dashed back to her desk. She'd finished chewing when she returned and extended a business card.

Nina took the card. What sort of sop had the guys cooked up? "Your name's on this. Not just in the main body, but across the bottom." It read Spengler, Stantz, Venkman, Zeddemore, Melnitz. "'Chief Managing Officer?'" She looked at her daughter with the last. She knew 'office manager' was just another name for 'secretary'.

"I'm a partner." Janine lay into her food again. She did have to decant the voicemails.

"I thought business was booming."

"Mom, what are you thinking? Look, I triage the busts, hound the delinquent payments and during the winter handle pretty much anything that doesn't need a pack or electromechanical engineering. They made me a partner. Simple as that."

"You didn't have to buy in?" Nina was glad to see Janine had an appetite.

"Time served. Look, let's have a nice, short, visit. You do know you don't have to bribe me with food." Though, it was one of her mom's most endearing features. That, and her left elbow during a clothing sale.

* * *

Slimer felt something big coming. Not like when a rip was forming. Janine was more than one. Not possession, Slimer knew Two. This wasn't Two. But it was still more than one. He was confused. He missed Peter and Ray.

He hovered by Janine. It was comforting to be near her. He didn't understand. It wasn't the snacks. Those hadn't changed. She was just, nice. And more than one. Something Big was coming. Slimer felt it. "Pweeter."

* * *

"Um, Egon?" Peter by rights should be sleeping the sleep, if not of the sated, of the entirely exhausted. They'd finally made it out to the Wexton bust. Turned out to be a dissipation. He felt bad that they'd taken so long to get to it, though the ghost had lingered well over seventy years; two weeks shouldn't mean too much. In the summer he'd do more research. "Egon, you awake?"

"No, but I doubt I'll stay that way." Egon turned on his lamp and put on his glasses. "What do you need?"

"You've read the parenting book?" Peter had selected out of his reading the one that would least frustrate Egon with infelicitous prose and had good diagrams.

"Yes." Egon slipped his left arm behind Peter.

"Oh. Good." Peter snuggled closer.

"How has your own reading been?"

"A bit stalled." He'd known that would happen, which was why he'd pushed so hard in September. "I did read the section you pointed out." His aptitude for self-delusion was clearly slipping, as he granted the description matched him pretty well. So did the better astrological charts. He wasn't quite convinced it was the same sort of thing as what Egon and Ray did. Were.

"And?" Either Peter would share what he thought about the section, or what posed a concern at this early hour.

The easy out would be some heavy petting; this time of year frustration was soporific. Or was that it was frustrating to find sleep better than sex for the making? They'd proven 'sure thing' sex didn't exist; at least one of them needed the resources to make it happen. Tempting Egon out of the lab, or even better into 'alternate research'-- Peter looked up from his nuzzle, hand still under Egon's nightshirt on his thigh. "Am I up to this? Raising a baby."

The quick clarification intercepted Egon's quip. He thought hard on how to answer so Peter would be convinced. "No, but that's never stopped you from accomplishing anything else you were set on. If you weren't worried..." Egon wasn't sure how to complete that sentence without opening a potential misunderstanding. "You know the difference between fearless and brave?"

Peter smiled. He knew this one, "dead and successful. Not that they're mutually exclusive." He'd been too caught up after the Boogeyman to properly address matters, exacerbated by the differing needs of his audience. Once he had his head back on he had separate 'redo' conversations. Egon's version had been satisfyingly earthy.

"You'll learn from mistakes." Egon slipped his hands up the back of Peter's pajama top. Peter was good at people. "Extrapolate."

"Got enough fifty dollar words to rev my motor?"

"Doubtful." They settled back into sleep.

* * *

Winston looked out Ecto's windshield into the cold needle rain. Egon sat shotgun while Ray read Tobin's in the backseat with Peter. "You know, I think Janine should join us at the firehouse." The car became preternaturally quiet, the rhythmic sweep of the wipers filling the silence. "It'd be safer. The weather is only going to get worse." Her center of gravity couldn't get any lower, but the sidewalks, and streets, were treacherous.

"We could move the guest bed into the nursery." Ray didn't think it looked much like a nursery, though he found the green walls and sky blue ceiling cheery. They'd wired the closet with low voltage lights controlled by a slap switch beside the door at knob height.

Peter was spitless. Things had been so frantic he'd hardly had a chance to speak to Janine about anything but invoices and making sure Louis had everything in hand with taxes. Too often he was covered in slime, unable to take her up on the offer of visiting time. How was she handling this, really? He didn't like the idea of her going back to Brooklyn alone, and yet he questioned if the Firehouse was better. Her own place, versus her Baby Onboard's future room. He needed to call the florist, even if he had to use a payphone.

"Peter?" Egon looked over his shoulder, concerned by his lover's silence. There were a lot of things he hadn't considered when he'd asked Janine to be their surrogate. Peter was clearly considering one of the resulting knots.

"I'll ask her. Tomorrow morning. Which of the busts would make good three-men jobs?"

* * *

Janine entered the Firehouse, took in the empty bay, then saw Slimer by her desk. "Guess it's just you and me, Spud." She missed the clickclack of her shoes on the floor. The rubbersoled maryjanes were more practical, but every morning she feared she'd have to fall back to slip-ons as she strained to buckle the shoes by touch.

She sat down, rocking back in the much sturdier chair Ray had found for her.

"Hey there."

Janine let her chair spring forward, then spun around. "Should you be out of bed?" Peter, for all that he proclaimed his boundless laziness, hated missing busts. His motherhen was only swayed if he was sick enough to distract the others.

"Not contagious." Peter stepped from his office and sat on Janine's desk. "How are you?"

"Pregnant." She was huge, which he could tell, and horny, which she certainly wouldn't.

"How would you like a shorter commute? We've got room, and Slimer's promised not to raid the kitchen." Peter looked over at the Spud. He wondered how much of Ray's explanation the gooper grasped.

She was positive she'd woken up this morning. Janine looked at Peter and decided she must have; she couldn't have imagined him so earnest and hopeful at seven much less now. She was kicking Charlie's ass next time he showed, as long as he stayed away until she gave birth. "Let me see the room."

Peter helped her up and followed her up the stairs. She stopped at the door. Winston, and Ray, had matched things up well. Peter turned the knob and pushed the door forward slightly. Janine took the knob and opened the door. "Green." The wall color went up to the shelf, painted white, that ran around room at about five feet high, the ceiling's light blue coming down the balance of the wall. She noted that the guest bed had its plastic off. "Are you sure about this?"

"No. But I worry. You can take care of yourself, normally, I know. It's selfish, but we're all overprotective."

Janine rested both of her hands on Peter's left shoulder. "Okay." She missed being able to initiate a hug. She was pulled back against Peter's chest, his arms crossed high and his hands cupping her shoulders. "Egon's lucky to have to you."

"Thanks." Peter was stunned by the compliment. "Let me and Winston help you get some of your things tonight?" Her trying to carry suitcases down to her bug was not acceptable.

She turned out of the hug. "You're not pulling Ecto up to my building!" Her mother wouldn't even need spies.

"Winston's much too protective of the old girl this time of year to let me drive."

"No Ecto. Don't forget, the trunk's in the front." How much did he think she was going to bring over?

"Okay. You're in charge." He considered giving her another hug but the moment was lost. "Guess I better move the laundry into the dryer before they get back." He sprinted for the pole and slid down.

Janine sat down on the bed. "Doesn't look like they've done much decorating." She rubbed her stomach. But then, it also meant there wasn't a blue and pink elephant in sight. Still, there were just two dressers, and 'her' bed. One was the old guestroom's highboy. She noted there was an outlet placed on the wall just above its top. The other was lower and wider. "This is going to be your room." She got up after a bit more time rubbing her tummy.

* * *

"Dibs on first shower." Peter looked at his watch, considering how long it'd been since he'd worried about making sure a woman was in bed early enough. Janine would kill him. He dashed out of the car, shed his boots and coverall, and since he wasn't badly slimed, took the steps up two at a time. A quick shower later, and dressed, Peter went to find Janine. Only after he'd looked in the living room, the kitchen and even the lab, did he think to check the nursery. He caught himself before just turning the knob, rapping his knuckles against the door gently. He knocked a little harder, then risked opening the door a crack. "Janine?"

"I don't have class today."

Peter smiled. "Want to raincheck getting some of your things?"

Janine gave him the hairy eyeball, then pushed herself up. "No way. Be right with you."

"I'll wait downstairs."

He was a little surprised when she handed him the keys, but then she had been napping. It had been a bit long since he'd last driven, and Ecto was a different experience, so he was quiet on the way over. He offered to deal with the kitchen while she gathered whatever. The freezer looked to be a simple shovel of fruit and veggies which he'd do right before they left. The fridge was a bit more complicated, but he got it sorted into bottles rinsing in the sink, stuff to take, and a rather disreputable sandwich he was eating when Janine came out with a suitcase and a gymbag.

"Sure you aren't pregnant?"

"Bad habit." Peter made quick work of his ersatz meal, then moved her bags to beside the door. He watched her collect up her houseplants. "I'll run these down, looks like there's two loads."

With her carrying the food down it was exactly two loads. "We can try swinging by--"

"Ralph will do it. He's made detective."

"Oh, good."

"The flowers were nice." She doubted he'd even seen the arrangement. It was very peachy.

"How are you doing?" He let her slip past him and rearrange things in the trunk, and he put the tallest plants on the floormats of the backseat.

"This is harder than seeing you off to send Gozer packing. It takes longer."

"Would you like someone to talk to, someone not me, not part of it all?"

"Maybe. Maybe being at the Firehouse will help." She opened the passenger door, and Peter lowered her in. "How about you?"

"Me?" Peter turned the key in the ignition and pulled out.

"This wasn't what you were expecting." She shouldn't have let Egon end-run Peter. Janine rubbed her belly. She shouldn't have helped Egon end-run Peter. Her motivations had made a muddle.

Peter spared a glance to his side. Janine had that right. However, what he'd been expecting, basically ordering out a baby, had its own strange assumptions. He supposed that was still partly the case, considering the egg.

"The room looks nice. Looks like it's always been there."

"But painted?" It really was past time to do that again. Slimer, and experiments, were hard on the walls, and they really hadn't given a lot of thought either time. Damn Peck.

"Yeah."

* * *

It took a bit of time to get used to having a fifth in the Firehouse, but it was nice to have someone to stop the crockpot at eight hours, or start it well after they left. Business was still crazy, but not every day was more than twelve hours long. Ray put in more lights around the washer and dryer, and they'd all gotten Janine to accept that she could do her own laundry only if they carried it down.

"Miss me?" Peter hung from one side of the door frame of a well-appointed office.

"Like an irregular mole." The woman's stern expression changed into a smile. "Aren't you supposed to be in a haunted sewer?" His job could be utterly filthy, but it so obviously made him happy. She looked him over, in case he was tracking something in.

"City lets us do those in March now. Much better than August." Peter gave her a runway turn before plopping into one of the plush chairs. "Rachel, I need to talk to you." He avoided fidgeting.

"You know I know you too well." She opened her drawer, looking for her 'trading cards'.

"Different shingle."

She punched her intercom button. "Hold my calls. Oh, good." Rachel looked at Peter. He suborned receptionists without respect for age. "So, you need a rabbi? I take this involves Dr. Spengler." They had seemed unlikely friends, which she learned misestimated them both. "You know, I might not be the right sort."

"I'm having a baby." He watched her eyebrows go up in surprise, then switch to one arched. Rach could semaphore with them. "Umm, yeah it does. And, I think you're the right sort." He took a deep breath. "We're having a baby. We're together, me and Egon." In case she misunderstood, "I'm gay, Rach."

Rachel came around her desk and pulled him into a hug. As they slipped apart she asked, "Not bi?" She smiled, returning to his first revelation, "Mazel tov!" She hopped up to sit on her desk. "When's the baby due?"

"February." He stroked the pile on the chair's armrest.

"Who have you told?"

"The guys. Baby isn't born yet." He rapped the chair's wooden arm.

"I meant about you and Egon being a couple." She smiled. It was so unlikely as to nearly be fated.

"Well, the guys, Janine, Mrs. Spengler, the lawyer. You." He half-thought his dad might know.

"And which of them, besides myself, did _you_ tell?" Peter was not above making you think he'd answered your question. She waited. Then realized that was his answer. "Peter."

"Who would I tell? The football team? My old girlfriends?"

"Lower Manhattan?" Rachel smiled as he chuckled. Peter gladhanded like most people breathed. He'd have been a ward boss in bad old crony politics. "You read up the literature about closeting?" He nodded, as she expected. He might play dumb but that's all it was, an act. "What about your dad?"

"Keeps his cards close. Mostly I'm a get out of jail free ticket."

She knew their relationship was more complicated than that. Reading Peter was a bit like tea leaves in a completely different cup. "So I'm a rabbi, what do you need?"

"I don't know?"

Yeah, classic Venkman. "Is Egon practicing at all?" Peter just shrugged; she hadn't thought so, but appearances could diverge from reality. "Is the mother Jewish?"

"Yes."

"Well, then technically you're home free either for eleven years, or twelve after the bris." She looked at Peter. "That wasn't the answer you were looking for."

"No."

"Okay. Peter, you're going to need to talk to Egon. You need to figure out his expectations and whether they're reasonable. Discuss holidays. Most of them have a teaching component." She thought a moment. "I don't know if I'd consider ectoplasm 'fermented'." She caught herself wandering. "Just, avoid letting him make assumptions. You can't keep up unless you know what's expected and have agreed."

Peter nodded.

Rachel slid from her desktop and grabbed Peter's hands. "I'm very happy for you. Time for both of us to pay the bills." She heard the rustle of deli paper. "Give and get out."

Peter chuckled as he left the sandwich on her desk and made good his retreat.

* * *

Egon stood at the doorway of the living room, watching Janine lit by the television's glow. He hadn't been ignoring her exactly, but he'd been standoffish and he was quite disappointed with himself. He stepped inside and over to the couch. He watched the screen.

Janine glanced up several times, waiting for him to speak. She thought he made a good picture for 'tension' in an illustrated dictionary. "Hi."

"Hello, Janine." He tried to determine where to look. She'd already dressed for bed and was improbably sitting tailor-style, her robe gaping at the neck and over her stomach. The glittery polish of her big toe seemed safest. The nail had grown and been trimmed since it had been painted. He looked up, focusing on her eyes. "May I sit?"

"Sure." She watched him carefully sit, pulling at the crease of his slacks. She wondered if Peter knocked Egon's curl askew. Her hormones were crazy. The most she'd caught them at was a bit of kissing, and that not as salacious as several of Peter's girlfriends. Janine reined herself back in, noting that Egon was still wrapped up in his discomfort. "Was there something--"

"Can you forgive me?" He stared at her stomach. It had seemed so straightforward, but that was before she was swollen with his and Peter's child.

"Egon." She plucked his hand from its resting spot and placed it on the swell of her belly. She stroked his hand, remembering that it, and Egon, belonged to Peter. The baby shifted. "We both were rash." She considered how she'd reacted after Egon told her he was off the market. She'd made him an object. Janine felt his hand twitch as it stayed still while the baby moved away. She guided his hand to track his baby. "Peter deserved better from each of us. Don't mess up a good thing."

Egon drew back; rather he tried to. Janine applied pressure across the back of his hand until he allowed her to retain control of it.

"That's what I mean. Part of it. Messing up can be not doing anything at all. You can lead or you can follow, but no one wants a sack of potatoes on the dance floor." Janine smiled as Egon visibly tried to make sense of the aphorism. "I think it lost something in translation. Or gained." She struggled to turn into words something she only half understood. "Don't take him for granted. That's not how to stay friends."

Egon looked down at his hand, following his and Peter's baby, Janine's small hand laying on his handback. He lifted his head to meet her eyes. "Remind me if you feel I'm taking you for granted." Peter didn't allow him to do so for long, in college. Egon had liked the attention, even as he proclaimed Peter a showman short a circus. Peter invariably smiled and drew him into further flights of verbal fancy before bringing the curtain down. He'd not known how that allusion played to Peter's pride.

Janine shifted and Egon came back to the moment. "I--"

She rubbed his knuckles. "Don't you know babies are time machines? I can tell when you're entirely somewhere else. It looks different than completing equations." She sat for a moment. "Dr. V, stop skulking and get in here."

Peter stepped into the living room nonchalantly. He'd come down from the lab and thought when Egon wasn't in their room he was making cocoa. Peter just didn't announce himself once he did find his lover. The tv's glow made them shadow and silver, Janine's hair the only spot of color.

"Sit." Janine grabbed the remote before Peter noticed it. She flipped the channels. "My show is coming on." Neither Egon nor Peter were cognizant of Brazilian sportsfishing while they sat with their unborn child between them.

* * *

Nina was upset. Ralph had hidden things from her. She shouldn't have had to learn Janine wasn't living in her apartment by going there. She called, she got her daughter's voicemail, and a return call after work hours. Just like normal. So, she goes there, thinking Janine might need a little help, not being quite so flexible just then, only to not find her there. Light went on as Nina was back on the street, and she couldn't see who turned on the light, but could tell that there were no plants.

She'd called Janine, and her daughter picked up. Now, the payphone wasn't where she could see her daughter's apartment, or even her building. But Nina knew Janine wasn't at home. So, she called Ralph.

Normally, he'd have been more cagey, and Nina was good with that. Made Ralph a detective, a good brother, things that showed she was a good mother. But he was at work, so he needed to be fast, as she'd expected, and he slipped up.

Not that he said where Janine was. Nina had four adult children and grandchildren in school besides. She didn't need things spelled out or diagrammed. Janine was at the Firehouse. Her 'friends' had to tie in there also. Maybe there really was a couple. Maybe Janine was covering a moment of indiscretion. Nina was going to find out.

She came to the Firehouse in the predawn of greengrocers' trucks and wafting bakeries. If they'd headed out after she left, well, she'd just wait for them to return. It was too bad the scanner wasn't portable. She'd dug it back out, something she'd bought when she'd learned her daughter's secretarial job involved three kooks. Winston seemed normal enough, hired help like her daughter.

Nina leaned on the bell and knocked with her other hand, eyes and ears on the street.

"Mrs. Melnitz?" Ray brought her in, switching on the overhead lights. "What's wrong?" He picked up the phone, there was a dial tone. He recradled the handset.

Nina wondered who made pajamas like that so big. She'd had to laundry marker her boys' so Murray didn't mistake them for his and wonder why they'd shrunk. She looked down, relieved to find they weren't footies. The corduroy houseshoes were a contrast to the bright flannel. Soon, the other three slid down the firepole, more or less dressed.

"What's shaking?" Dr. Venkman leaned towards her. "Takes an emergency to get all of us in our pjs." She swallowed once he pulled back. He really was a piece of work, and his tshirt was ready to polish a car.

Dr. Spengler finished buttoning his shirt, the top two and his cuffs. "Guys? Who's making breakfast?" dropped down the pole well.

"Your mom's joining us."

Nina thought Venkman was too cool by half, though Dr. Spengler's blanch was more incriminating. Stantz, apparently was just realizing he was in his jammies without any fire. Winston met her gaze straight on. "Just what is going on? I went to her apartment last night and she's not been there in weeks."

"Mom!" Janine stood at the top of the stairs. She looked down at herself and back at her mother. "I'm not getting dressed before my shower. Everyone up here. You couldn't wait for a civil hour?" She turned and headed presumably for the kitchen.

The guys herded Nina upstairs, Ray trailing then breaking for the bunkroom. Nina watched the six hand exercise that spoke of countless hours of practice that resolved into the cooking of waffles as the batter sizzled. Venkman offered her a glass of juice. She took it and sat it down. "Janine." She looked at the huge robe. "What are you doing here?"

"I'd think you'd appreciate us worrying about her going back and forth from Brooklyn and here in the dark and cold." Peter buttered toast, dropping two pieces onto a saucer and sliding it to Janine, munching a third while reloading the toaster and spreading jam on the fourth before handing it to Winston.

"I'd appreciate my daughter not lying to me."

"Mrs. Melnitz." Winston's even voice cut through. He looked at Janine. "This can be discussed civilly, or not over breakfast. Your choice." He flipped out the first waffle and poured in more batter. He eyed Peter as the psychologist offered the plate to their visitor and snagged the syrup carousel for her. Winston exhaled when she poured a little syrup and cut into her breakfast.

"Have you considered I didn't tell you because I knew you'd do something like this?" Janine smiled as Ray joined them and her grapefruit half appeared on her toast free saucer. He squeezed the other half into the orange juice pitcher and gave it a swirl before pouring glasses.

Nina turned, to find Dr. Spengler was tending eggs and hashbrowns. "Just whose baby is it?" She was unsurprised that got a reaction out of everyone. They were all grown men and they were words calculated to strike fear. Sorta like a polygraph. You had to know why they were worried, to know if they were lying, or just cheating with the secretary.

"Mine. And my partner." Peter sat down, surprised at himself. "Thought we'd keep it in the family."

"Partner?" Nina ate while she thought. "Doesn't anyone get married anymore?" And why wasn't this 'liberated' woman doing her own babymaking? Nina eyed Winston.

"Mom, you got what you came for, don't badger a man in his home. Like I told you, they couldn't have a baby on their own. End of story."

"Not end of story, because they dragged you into this escapade."

"My call. My body, my decision, not yours." Janine started to get up, but Ray and Peter calmed her.

"Sorry you have to leave so soon, Mrs. Melnitz." Winston signaled Egon to watch the wafflemaker.

"But it's my grandchild!"

"No, it is not. In vitro fertilization allows for a harvested egg to be externally combined with semen, and the resulting embryo implanted in a prepared womb. There would be no reason for the technique to be used if the gestational and egg mothers were the same, and there were no fertility problems involved. Artificial insemination is much less complicated."

Peter was blissfully quiet. Winston resumed his spot, pulling out the waffle before it burned. He unplugged the maker, then took over at the stove.

"But--"

"No, mom. I can't make you understand. I can't sit here anymore." She stood. As the guys reached for her she smiled. "I'm going to take a shower and get dressed. I can do that perfectly well." She sailed from the kitchen.

Peter turned on Nina.

"I'll let myself out." She made her retreat down the stairs.

Peter finished the grapefruit while he turned two pieces of waffle into a sandwich. "I'll just take this to her." Slimer was being very good about food in the kitchen or Janine's 'space'. He might have to see if that worked for Girl Scout cookies.

Winston patted Egon on the shoulder and got back on waffles. He'd drive and Peter could eat in the car. He hated strife before breakfast. Didn't bode well for the day.

* * *

Fortunately the worst was some rope burn gained when repeaters got cute in a disused off-off-off-Broadway theater and the scenery got chewed up. Ecto pulled in to the firehouse disgorging the team. Winston stretched as he got out, and grabbed the keys from the air as Peter tossed them to him. He and Ray had swapped Peter and Egon between them on busts. Peter had upped that by getting the keys from Ray after lunch. Winston grabbed two packs and Ray the other two.

Peter dug in the back, handing Egon half the traps, taking the other half himself, and hip bumping Ecto's gate shut. The last trap was cycling before he slumped against Egon. "She can't win."

"No." Egon knew Peter knew that. Just as he knew the tabloids, should Nina avail herself of them, could drag them around like a five-story rottweiler with a new toy. He didn't think she was as enraged as Peck. "Thanks, by the way. I know my comment was a flapping cape."

"It'd hardly've been appropriate in front of our kid." Peter looked around, then pulled Egon closer kissing him hungrily. "Think she'll try?"

"I think she loves her daughter very much."

"Shit." Peter held onto Egon a bit longer before picking up traps and heading upstairs.

Egon took the last from the containment unit port and with his combined load followed Peter. They stowed the traps, peeled out of their coveralls and took off their boots and went upstairs.

Ray being Ray was giving Janine a hand massage while she talked on the phone. At first Peter was confused, since normally Victor would burst in loud enough to be heard as background in short succession. He mouthed 'sister-in-law' to Ray, who nodded. As Janine switched ears, Ray switched hands. Peter headed into the kitchen.

"I know you didn't start that before we left, and unloading traps doesn't take that long." It looked like the oven had had a very busy day, and most every baking dish had adventured.

"Every time she got stressed over her mom's visit, she cooked." Winston watched Peter look through the bounty. He slapped Peter's hand when he tried to claim a dessert bar. "You'll spoil your appetite." Winston could see Peter plotting. "Normally, she'd window shop." He saw Peter's dreams crash and burn. "Help me find some storage containers. Stuff still has to cool, but we've not worried about much more than leftovers, and most of those come in their own boxes."

Meanwhile, Janine finished her call with Trudie. She squeezed one of Ray's hands. "Thanks, Ray." He was like her own personal spa. The mint footbath had rather amused her a few days ago. He pointed out he wouldn't have her soak in anything she couldn't safely ingest.

She got up and Ray placed his hand on the small of her back briefly. She headed into the kitchen, watched Winston label something and tuck it into the freezer. "Trudie's going to talk to Mom." She looked between Peter and Egon. "Let's eat."

* * *

After dinner, Peter and Egon claimed to be beat. Janine figured they would be after they screwed. Winston headed to the bunkroom to read, which meant the Bible, because his current mystery lay on the arm of his chair. Janine wasn't ready to turn in so after changing for bed she went into the living room.

She still hadn't settled when Ray came in after finishing up the dishes. His fingers kneaded her shoulders and she let him guide her to the couch. His thumbs slid up and down her back.

"You don't think your mom will..." Ray didn't want to give form to anything that would hurt his friends.

"She's confused, Ray. Pop will talk to her, Trudie will talk to her. As long as she doesn't fall in with someone grinding an axe she'll see sense." Janine leaned back into Ray's hug. "I think Peter surprised her." Her mother wouldn't grasp everything Peter said, G-d willing. "I guess he surprised me."

"Really?" Ray thought for a moment. "How would she have reacted to Egon saying the same thing?"

"Plate to the face." Janine turned, shocked at her words. Ray, rather than horrified at what she said, just stroked her hair.

"Peter would know that." Ray was often puzzled, sometimes disappointed, by people's reactions. Egon often ignored such reactions entirely, outside very limited parameters.

"Yeah." And from there Peter's action was written. Her mom would take Egon more personally, and hot she could wreck way more damage.

She brushed her fingers over Ray's hand rubbing her belly gently. Not just the baby, but her stomach. She knitted her fingers between his, then curled them into his palm. She turned, looking, really looking at Ray. She stroked his cheek, surprised by the feel of stubble against her thumb. Probably only Peter had gotten a shave in this morning. It came in copper, naturally, and Ray was ruddy enough you had to be very close to see it.

Her hand went to his shoulder. She kneaded, the muscle hard under the top cushiony layer. She leaned closer, and kissed his mouth. His free hand cupped her face as he kissed sweet, gentle and long. She let go of his hand with her right so she could clutch the left side of his head. She feasted on his mouth, brought up her left. Ray's released hand stroked her back.

Janine tried to untwist, but couldn't swivel her hips and get her knees under her. She sat up and dropped her legs to the floor, grabbing Ray's arm and smiling. Ray's eyes lit up when he realized she'd only stopped from simple mechanics. He leaned in and kissed her.

Kissed. Breathed the universe into existence. Metaphor failed. His hands, his strong, kind, nimble, big workman's hands held her, caressed her.

"Ray. Ray." She didn't push at him. She wanted no misunderstandings. "I need to see you naked."

Ray pulled back, so he could look into Janine's eyes. "My last transfusion was more than six months ago."

That banked her ardor. Busting was dangerous, and it wasn't just getting banged up. Sometimes they bled, a lot. There'd been some scares about the bank supply. She knew Ray would do whatever she wanted.

Janine stroked Ray's chest through his shirt. "Make love to me, Ray." He kissed her again, then drew her from the couch. He escorted her to her room, sat her down on the bed and turned on the lamp.

"Ray?"

"You wanted to see me naked." He stripped. Not as a tease. Not in a hurry. His shirt came off, and Janine could see even his paunch was firm. His pants were next. There was some jiggle to his pale thighs, but his calves were prime choice and not veal. She stifled a chuckle at the no ghost boxers. Then they too were on the floor.

He was at half-mast, his uncut cock jutting from a bright red thicket. Grower. He walked towards Janine, and her palms itched to touch him. She was surprised that instead of leaning over her, instead of sitting beside her, Ray knelt before her reverently taking her left foot in his hands. He stroked her sole heel to toe, and dragged his thumbs ankle to toe, before resting her foot on his thigh. Ray repeated with her right. He wrapped his hands around her ankles, thumbs rubbing in circles as he stroked his hands up and down her lower legs.

He kissed her knees, not once, or twice, but repeatedly, nuzzling and licking at the crease of each. Ray's fingers slid up the tops of her thighs past the hem of her nightgown. She thrummed with wet anticipation, her nipples tight.

Janine clutched her hands below and behind his ears as he started to kiss up her left thigh. "Kiss me, my mouth, let me touch you."

Ray tilted his head back and smiled. He rose into a crouch so he could seal his mouth over Janine's. His hands slid up the outside of her thighs, and Ray hooked his fingers into the waistband of her panties, pulling them down.

Janine kneaded Ray's chest, dragging the heels of her palms over his nipples before latching one hand over his shoulder to brace herself and taking his cock in hand with her other.

"May I?" He fingered the shoulders of her nightgown. She raised her arms and he lifted the garment from her. "You're beautiful." Her full breasts were supported by her rounded belly, the curves of her thighs reiterating her lush ripeness. He kissed her again, lips, neck, shoulders, upper swell of her breasts. He crouched, then knelt as he worshipped her belly with his lips and hands.

"I need you." She moaned as her mons was kissed, as one and then the other side of her vulva was mouthed before Ray tongued her cleft. She clutched his neck, then his shoulders as he delved deeper and deeper yet, licking her open. She panted, his tongue in her, flicking. Janine pulled Ray's head forward. She keened as a knowing finger slipped in and hooked inside her.

Ray held her upright as she came. He withdrew his finger, then slowly pulled back his face from her. He wiped his arm across his mouth and got up off the floor.

Janine hooked Ray's calf with her foot. She looked intently at his erection, and rubbed her sole over the back of Ray's leg. He sat on the bed and embraced her.

"Will you ride me?"

She kissed him hard. Ray swung his legs onto the bed and helped Janine straddle them. He lay back on his elbows to watch her fondle his dick. She encouraged his foreskin back and rubbed his cockhead against herself slowly. Ray dropped onto his back and reached for her shoulders. Janine recapitulated Ray's tonguing with his prong, teasing herself by feeding just a bit more of him inside each time. She rocked forward, clutching greedily at his welcome shaft.

Ray moved one hand to the top of her thigh, supporting her weight at her shoulder, and stabilizing her hips. He watched her face as she took him deeper into her body. Awesome. As changeable as the sky with fast moving clouds, beautiful as a sunrise. He caught her as she sank down, her buttocks holding her proud of his root. Her finger traced him like lightening.

He moved her hands to his chest, holding her arms until he was sure she could support her weight off her belly. Ray cupped the heft of her breasts in his hands, thankful as for rains after drought. He bent his knees slightly, planted the bottoms of his feet against the mattress, gentled his hands over her stretched belly, like a farmer covering first seeds in sifted loam, and lifted his pelvis slightly.

The earth was moving. Janine resolved it was Ray rocking her like a swan boat on a slow day. Liquid gold. His mouth was open, his face was open, even more than normal for Ray. She couldn't reach his lips to kiss him. Janine tested if she could balance, if he could take her weight, on one hand. She could, he could, and she traced his lip with one finger.

He kissed Janine's finger. Ray pulled her finger into his mouth. He grazed the pad of it with his teeth.

"Ray!" She swiveled her hips, tried to; he held her, stilling her movements to a simmer not a tsunami. Her orgasm flowed like molten honey, hot, sweet and burningly slow. Janine arched and Ray's hands moved to her back. His hips lifted her higher and she moved her hands to his stomach. Hardly any of her weight was on her legs at the top of his rise.

She was so lifted when she felt him hitch, arch onto his shoulders, his hands sinking to the small of her back. Her eyes rolled back, and she fluttered as he came. Ray's ass and knees dropped back to the bed as did his spine. Janine started to slip, and he caught her in hands that had just been limp. He rolled them to their sides. Ray smoothed his upper hand over Janine's curves. She angled towards him and kissed his mouth.

Ray got the blankets pulled over them.

* * *

Peter was nearly through breakfast, meatloaf though it was, before he noticed. Ray had gotten lucky. It was a subtle difference from Ray's usual joy, and one Peter had been hardpressed to learn back in college. If you can't tease your friends and all...

He was in Ecto before his brain pointed out the other half of the equation. Good for Janine. Too bad they, Egon particularly, didn't trust Peter in the backseat with Egon. It was hard sleeping shotgun, though less so with Winston at the wheel than Ray. Car sleeping was better leaned against Egon's shoulder. He braced his arm against the door so he shouldn't faceplaster the window.

Winston glanced at Peter. Soon the psychologist's ability to catnap would meet its challenge. Winston looked at Egon in the rearview mirror and wondered if the two had finally picked names. Surprisingly he'd not heard the matter come up again. Then again, now with Janine in residence maybe not so surprisingly.

Egon had been on eggshells at first. Winston gave thanks the two had started finding an even keel before Nina roughened the waters. He could see Nina's reasoning. Perhaps science had gotten beyond men's ability to master it. Then again, how much worse would this be if this was happening the old-fashioned way.

He snorted. 'Sarah' here wasn't going to quicken, nor was Janine going to be sent away. Egon though was back to being cocksure as any Old Testament patriarch. He supposed it was like any new thing, a tiger to ride before culture built up mores to control it.

Peter and Janine seemed to have navigated the shoals. He could only hope that meant she'd truly moved on from Egon. Clearly, she hadn't before all this. Winston shook his head. It was a lot for a baby to be born into. Good thing love could smooth mountains and raise valleys. Love they had.

He just hoped Nina could see the right of matters without too much stumbling. Winston gave Ecto a bit more gas.

* * *

Peter looked into the living room. On his squelchy march to the bathroom and thoroughly deserved shower he'd not noticed the woman with Janine. His stance hardened.

Janine turned. "Peter, this is Trudie, Ralph's wife."

Peter loosened up. "Nice to meet you." He ransacked his brain for any scrap of information on her. How was it you learned about the Victors of people's families first? "Anything you ladies need, while I'm up?"

"Sit, Dr. V."

Peter did as bidden, and without the verbal schtick that yearned to breathe free. It'd become a joke between them; he'd been an ass at startup.

"Nina is working her way through this. Honestly, I probably am too." She gripped Peter's hand as he tensed. "Nathan and Elliott, thanks be, came so easily. I can't imagine..."

Egon passed the door, then came back when he noticed Peter.

"Hey, Trudie came to visit." Peter turned back to their guest. "Can you be my sister-in-law too?"

"Pleased to meet you, Mrs. Melnitz." Egon nodded and took his leave.

"I still look for Nina when I hear that." She was surprised her mother-in-law could have missed It. When she'd talked to Nina, the older woman had repeated Peter's words, and wondered why his woman wasn't having the kid. Trudie went over several scenarios, knowing as she did there was no woman in question. She had wondered who Peter's partner was; she wondered no longer. The two men had a charge between them.

She only knew them by reputation, public and Janine's accounts. Fond exasperation was the predominate key with Doctor Venkman eventually, while there had been a dreamy overlay regarding Doctor Spengler. Ray was Ray and Trudie had to figure out Ray was also Dr. Stantz. Her sister-in-law's comments, when it was just them, about Winston weren't always polite though perfectly flattering.

"Janine cares for both of you deeply." She looked at her sister-in-law. "I really must be going. I'll call."

Peter made to stand.

"I'm sure you've had a rough day."

Peter got up anyway. "Not too rough to show you the door. Um." He offered his elbow.

Trudie giggled and tapped Peter's elbow. They walked down the stairs and he asked her about the boys. Then he helped her on with her coat. She left the firehouse with different questions than she'd had when she'd arrived. A good evening.

Peter leaned on the door, then climbed the stairs and dropped onto his spot on the couch. "How are things?"

"Might be down to a three by the end of the week. Two is mom's lowest setting."

"From nine?"

"You couldn't take nine. But you all did real well with eight." Janine got up and sat by Peter. "I hadn't expected that. Mom getting in your grill, not the collective smooth play." She scootched over as Peter lifted his arm. "I'm fine." She pinched him, gently, as he started to smirk. "None of that, buster." She grinned. "Egon tell you if this pickle is a boy or a girl?"

"You don't know?"

"I go to my appointments, drink way too much water, get gooped and a cold scanner across the stomach. The printouts go into a file. Everything's fine though." She looked at Peter. "Go on, already."

Peter placed his hand on Janine's stomach. "Hey there. I think your daddy is sneaky. But this daddy is sneakier."

* * *

Janine stretched against Ray, he made a good backrest. Winston had sat up with them until he finished his book. Peter had wandered off to the lab an hour or so after dinner. "Ready for bed?"

He kissed her on the back of the neck. Janine dropped her legs from the couch. Ray stood, helping her to her feet. His hands smoothing over her belly spoke of "Dangerous Curves Ahead" and notched her heat up. She led them into her room and he turned the latch.

"Skeleton key. Peter can pop them with a bobby pin."

Only Ray could make a nursery safety reassurance sound sexy. Janine was admittedly listening more to his fingers and the hands they rode in on. Since that first night she stopped changing for bed. Ray taking her clothes off was so delicious. He didn't tease, didn't rush, just unwrapped her like a present he knew would be perfect.

She loved his oral fixation, even though he didn't always end up with his mouth between her legs. He could make love to her elbow, and had. He liked to make love by lamp light, and she'd noticed the bulb had been changed.

Janine turned. "Let me help you get changed into something more comfortable." Naked was a very good thing for Ray. He really should dress better. Janine smiled. The men's shops never got so crazy. Then she stopped thinking about clothes.

Ray felt good behind her, hot and strong. "Ray, do me doggie-style." She thought she'd said the wrong thing when his hand stopped, until he kissed her behind the ear. She wrapped her arms behind her and cupped his thighs possessively. Why hadn't she thought to do Ray earlier? Because he was cute and quiet.

Soon, though not really soon enough, she was helped onto the bed, Ray arched over her from behind. Here he did tease, stroked along her pussy until she mewled, then slowly pushed in, so slowly she thought he'd never end. His balls gently swung against her. Ray stayed there, still. Then he was moving and Janine was moaning and the bed hardly creaked because Ray wasted no motion. Slow and sure.

She came, he came and he pulled back, pulling her into his lap. She sighed as he pressed his hand over her bush. She was surprised he hadn't pulled out or been pushed out, but he didn't seem too soft. No, Ray was just right. She went with whatever Ray was doing. He mapped her body with his hands. Belly. Breasts. Collarbone and shoulders, neck and face. He massaged her scalp, her neck, guided her forward and rubbed her back. Knots released and Janine hitched as he slipped deeper into her. He palmed her butt, her thighs, thumbed the backs of her knees. Ray worked down her legs and touched her feet in ways that had to be a crime in three states and would have made him a king.

Ray lifted them into a kneel and took her to ecstasy. Completed, he rolled them onto their sides.

* * *

Peter was procrastinating. He was a master of the art, having dedicated long years to the subtleties of craft. November had disappeared and they were wading into December. He'd left the naming issue like a book half-read. He hadn't followed Rachel's injunction, yet. Nina had certainly contributed, since she'd made his worst fears flesh and bone.

She'd calmed down since, though she'd sent a standing dinner invitation along with a crocheted baby hat. Peter was sure she was fishing, but it confirmed she had no clue of Egon's involvement. He wanted that realization delayed as long as possible.

Two months would pass all too quickly. Peter set himself a deadline. A month out, they'd be ready with a name for their child, and have started the conversation about religion and culture. He knew it was the last time he'd have the luxury of putting off what he should do today.

Egon, quite asleep, pressed against Peter's side and nudged him to roll. Talk about 'luxury' and 'do'. Peter let himself drift back asleep, wrapped in Egon's comforting heat.

In the future nursery Ray was slipping from Janine's bed. Two could sleep in a twin, but three was rather crowded. They each needed more rest than they could find unable to shift in their sleep. As he pulled on his boxers and pants, Janine proved the point by rolling into the spot he'd left. Ray wanted to kiss his way from the soles of her feet to her scalp, skipping not a vertebra of her spine.

"Wish you didn't have to go to bed." Janine stretched, demonstrating how a twin was meant for one.

He bent down and gave her a kiss. "Me too."

"How about if you didn't have to?" She smiled.

"I can move it in the morning."

"Good." She closed her eyes and wriggled under the covers.

Ray picked up the rest of his clothes and headed to his shower.

* * *

Peter was disappointed to wake up alone and its pall leached into the rest of his day. He might have made his peace with Christmas, but he still hated the canned carols the shops played. He didn't spare much thought to Ray's absence at breakfast or how early Janine fixed him one to go. Peter did consider how that relationship would sort out once the baby arrived, and how Janine would weather the aftermath of everything. He'd have to look through his favors owed cards.

The day ran long, which was to say the evening was full of busting since the light failed so early. People were digging around in attics, under beds, in cellars and the backs of closets, disturbing things that likely as not would rather just sleep.

When they finally pulled into the Firehouse it was showers and a quick bowl of soup from the crockpot. Peter followed Egon up to the lab.

Winston headed to the bunkroom. The bare space where Ray's bed belonged was startling. He hadn't been unaware of the romance budding between Ray and Janine. Winston supposed he shouldn't be surprised, considering when Ray had finally been turning in. The bunkroom had never been so empty, just his own bed and the one that once had been Egon's. He changed for bed and said his prayers.

Ray knocked gently on the nursery door and opened it. He saw that Janine had fallen asleep reading. He eased the book free and placed the bookmark before setting it on the dresser. Ray stripped and got in beside her after turning off the lamp.

Egon turned once Peter had stepped into the lab and kissed him, shutting the door. He leaned into Peter, Peter pushing back and pulling them together in a way that should be counterintuitive but simply was hot.

"This morning?" Peter wanted to crawl into Egon, and the evidence was conclusive Egon wanted him as much. Egon's strong fingers were doing delicious things at the small of Peter's back.

"We'd never have been ready for the morning appointments."

Peter only had moments to consider the words before being pushed to the lab bench. He waited for the tinkle of glassware. Peter looked at the cleared surface then back at Egon. "You've got something in mind." He thought about Egon clearing away the whole of the lab's standard setup. He fought the filthy grin and Egon encouraged him up onto the chemical resistant surface, and scrambled at Peter's fly. "Let me." He unzipped slowly, easing the pull over his achingly hard cock. This was way up Egon's kinkmeter and that revved Peter's motor. He pushed his jeans down so he was bare bottom on Madame Science's altar.

He was falling backwards, Egon's mouth taking him by surprise and deep. Peter eased the long-fingered hand from behind his head, making love to Egon's palm and fingers in turn, in point and counterpoint to the consideration he was receiving. He was desperate to hold on, to make this worth the trouble Egon had gone to. It was a testament to the scientist's ability to compartmentalize that he'd been functional today after hatching this little plan.

Peter groaned when the wet heat withdrew; close, very close. He registered his jeans being pulled from his legs, and then him being pushed further back. He heard further rustling of cloth, and waited for Egon to join him.

The upside down kiss surprised him. Peter opened his eyes and looked past the top of his head. "My, what a hard erect cock you have." He reached for Egon, finally noticing the lab coat that Egon was stark naked under. Talk about the man making the clothes. Egon grabbed Peter by the rocking hips, stilling them. Peter reeled Egon in by the coat's placket.

Egon rubbed then released Peter's hips and closed his hands over Peter's. He thumbed Peter's palms and eased Peter's fingers from his lab coat before hoisting himself onto the table. Egon looked down at Peter, stroking his jaw before twisting to look further down his body. He stretched out, teasing his way down sternum, laterally along ribs, circling, spiraling towards Peter's umbilicus, veering away at the last moment and following muscle to his mouthful.

Peter fought not to squirm, fought to permit Egon whatever he sought. He squeezed the backs of Egon's calves. He needed more, needed to split his attention, needed Egon. "Come to Peter." His feet flattened against the side of the counter as Egon closed his mouth over him. He guided Egon to straddle his head, pulling himself up to lick Egon. He loved driving his lover nuts, always had, now it was fun on both sides. Peter exhaled as Egon did gorgeous, filthy things with his lush lips. He was always amazed when the mood struck Egon to persuasive mute argument. Peter palmed Egon's ass while he explored his options; the angle wasn't the best but he was inspired. He reached down with one hand, burrowing his fingers into the back of Egon's hair.

Peter sucked Egon's balls one after the other and licked his cock. Peter was so close, not least because of the venue. He'd never have thought of it, but offered he was all for it. He couldn't entirely resist bucking, but he did keep his thighs splayed instead of clasping them against Egon's ears. Peter sucked Egon into his mouth and his mind rushed out his cock.

Egon swallowed Peter's rush, came himself, and rolled onto his back pulling Peter with him. Peter braced his hands on either side of Egon's head and pulled away, feet dropping to the floor, clutching to the counter. He latched his mouth over Egon's. He looked up, down, Egon's lean body, grinning at his spent, debauched lover. "Couch." Peter brushed his fingers over Egon's sides. "Come on." He encouraged, tickled, Egon to move, to draw up his long legs, turn and drop them off the edge. Peter clung to Egon, kissing him sloppily.

Egon tried to head for the door. He swayed and let Peter fling them onto the couch. He nuzzled into Peter and fell asleep.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Normally, Peter would rather wake once, as opposed to twice, on any given morning. Waking stark naked under Egon was a strong inducement to the contrary, as unfortunately were the aging springs of the lab couch. The later was why on waking Peter had to find his boxers, gather up the rest of their clothes, and convince Egon to dash to their room in the now buttoned lab coat, instead of exploring more inspired experiments in friction and heat transfer.

Now, the former did have the benefit of Egon needing intensive kiss therapy, as well as having all those pesky buttons Peter could help him free. Peter was sure he could arrange that without his spine having to pay the price, but he owed that couch; too bad it was already a broken down nag when they did the horizontal mambo on it. His, their, bed had good springs, and Egon had developed a phenomenal skill in muscle-knot untying.

Drifty, muzzy sex was an unexpected benefit of their developed relationship. Peter supposed it was the flipside of their sometimes explosive lovemaking. "Round three?" Peter stretched provocatively under the blankets with Egon in mid-dismount.

Egon put on his glasses. He gave Peter a searing full-body regard, smiling and then banking his ardor. "No time." He shrugged into his robe and headed for the shower.

Janine snuggled against Ray enjoying the extra heat under the blankets. Morning sex with him was so sweet. She looked to the drawn curtains. Soon she'd have to rouse him.

Winston was well into breakfast preparation before Egon and then Ray made their appearances. Today was going to be long. Winston had built up some tolerance to Egon's rather subtle 'morning' look, but Ray's was like a two page color spread.

Peter wandered into the kitchen while the other three were eating. Slimer was floating along the nursery wall. He dug in, imagining playing footsie, a game Egon only permitted afterhours. Peter chewed on the tension along with the pancakes and eggs as he started to wake. Oh. Winter truly was the cruelest season for Winston. Ladies that thought they were fine with dating a Ghostbuster balked when there were no dates that could be kept and there was strict curfew. They mostly tried to keep Christmas free, and also get Winston to Christmas Eve family dinner, but it wasn't totally given. Misery might not like company, but being odd man out sucked.

Ray in mid-bite dropped his fork and made up a new plate, then grabbed the convalescence tray. Peter was surprised Slimer didn't even ask if Ray was finished, completely ignoring the unguarded food. Finished, Peter looked at Ray's plate and with a last cooling pancake made a breakfast burrito, which he handed off to his friend as he followed Winston and Egon to the pole.

Ray chewed as he took the stairs down.

* * *

Janine sat on the couch sorting ornaments. She marveled at how poorly they'd been put away. They were all intact, but they looked like Peter had put them away in the dark during a bout of insomnia, regardless of color or type. She nodded to herself. She'd worked as an assistant to a window dresser once back in high school.

The guys had rolled in not terribly late, finished with the scheduled busts and in desperate need of showers. Poltergeists at the docks had taken to throwing the spoiled produce and fish. Clean, Peter made a show of shock at the calendar and declared it was time to decorate. He took Winston downstairs to set up the pencil trees with the white garland, fairy lights and the company logo balls. She started untangling lights until Ray whisked them away talking about some sort of plasticizer. The hot washcloth did feel good. Now her hands smelled like roses.

Egon and Ray had the lights on the tree and were just about finished with the garland when Winston and Peter came back. Peter looked scandalized that there was no popcorn or hot chocolate and Egon went off to solve that affront to festivity.

"Take these and put them evenly on the lower two-thirds of the tree."

Peter looked at the box of balls, grinned but didn't say a word. He'd found Janine supplied for herself better dialogue; she gave him a withering look when he stepped over her line but she'd fluster when she filled in the blanks for him. He got on the ladder and did her bidding.

"Don't forget the back side."

Peter looked over his shoulder. He turned around before grinning, shook his tail and hung those back balls he could without moving the ladder.

Winston and Ray were also handed boxes, and soon Peter was hanging the smallest ornaments around the upper part of the tree. Janine got up from the couch, pushing off from the backrest. She looked at it from different places, checking the back. "Not bad." She headed for the door. "But the proof is in," she switched off the room lights, "ooh."

Ray had turned on the tree lights on Janine's cue. He'd put a foot pedal switch on an extension cord that summer. "It's beautiful."

"Very nice." Egon's voice came from the doorway, along with the scent of chocolate and hot butter.

Ray turned on Winston's reading lamp and the aurora ball. He tidied up the floor so Egon could set down the tray on the coffeetable.

Peter shuffled his friends so Winston was in the crush of them, on one side of Janine and himself on her other, the couples split along the couch. "What time is Christmas Eve dinner, Zed?"

"Still seven P.M." He knew it wasn't that Peter forgot; he just didn't trust consistency. Charlie had done a number on Peter, promising things that rarely panned out.

"Check. Janine, make sure that we're front loaded that day."

"Dr. V--"

"Partners look out for each other. That's 24/7, first and always. It's everything else that's negotiable. Except price."

"No job too small or grand, no fee too large." Ray grinned when he finished quoting Peter. Those had been crazy days. No movie could completely capture it, and the dialogue naturally was the writers' interpretation. Peter had been on a roll.

Peter leaned forward to smile at Ray. "So, Janine, what items do you want for Our Big Chinese Food Christmas?"

Janine looked at Peter wondering if he was joking. Quickly she decided this was a tradition the three had formed. "Hot-and-sour-soup and the steamed chicken dumplings."

Peter spoke to Janine's stomach. "Rule Number #1 of New York: Somewhere there is always Chinese Food." He looked over at Winston. "Any leftovers you want?" Ray had Slimer distracted by tossing popcorn piece by piece at the spud.

His mom didn't let anyone leave hungry. "Ginger noodles."

"Think we'll get any leftovers?" Peter tossed it off nonchalantly, tapping his fingers on Janine's belly.

"Maybe." Winston was only tugging Peter's chain, his way of counteracting Charlie's lessons, small and late as it was. He took Janine's empty mug from her and sat it on the table. Tolstoy clearly hadn't imagined their family. "Cookies would be perfect."

"There's a log in the fridge. They just need to be sliced and baked." Janine watched Ray spring up and Winston follow. "350°, preheated, about 12 minutes." She smiled as Egon sat the popcorn bowl next to her. "How long have you been having the Chinese Food Christmas?"

"Second one after we met." Egon's attention wandered among Peter, Janine, and Peter's hand rolling a fictive quarter over the backs of his fingers. He wondered if even Peter knew that's what he was doing.

Janine had thought Peter's mom was still alive then.

Peter caught the crinkling of Janine's eyes. "Mom preferred having New Year's Eve off." He'd preferred it too, not liking her wading her way home from the hospital through the crazed louts. "I wasn't great company." He did try, for his mom. Maybe not hard enough, though she was good at seeing through him.

Egon considered finding sullen, on-his-way-to-drunk Peter that first Christmas, theirs; the semester they met he'd had no reason to think Peter wouldn't have better plans. "Ray had been allowed to stay in the dorms, but naturally there was no food service." Egon had found the freshman in one of the labs making cupasoup and packet hot chocolate.

Egon had quickly gone to outrage and then abashed shame. Why would Peter have known anymore than he had? Ray idolized Peter. Ray being Ray went on happily disclosing Peter's plans. Granddad seemed simple enough, but Johnnie and Jose made Egon deeply suspicious. He'd left Ray with the chocolate bar and marshmallows he'd brought to tide him through his research and gone to the frat.

"And that's how we wound up at Hi Fat's Lo Bar." Peter got up, giving one of his patent smiles, the ones that didn't reach his eyes. "I better supervise." He gestured towards the kitchen, mug in hand.

Janine clamped her hand around Egon's wrist as he made to stand. "Are you going to light?" She listened to make sure Peter was out of ear shot. "You've got to decide what it means to you for this baby to be Jewish. Or was that just a line?"

"No." He realized there might be ambiguity as to which question he was answering. "It is important."

Janine doubted Egon knew, or knew he knew, anyone like Mel. He'd been sent to Orthodox shul at twelve from an atheist home. "Just practice what you want to teach. Kids learn other lessons when what is said and done don't match." She let it sink in. "Those cookies will be yummiest with cocoa."

* * *

Peter found Egon on a ladder half in a cabinet. He looked at the right-there cheek, and fought temptation. He took the dive, seemingly 'stabilizing' Egon but his palm was too far over. He winced at the thwunk. "Need me to kiss it better? What are you looking for?"

"Do you really want to kiss the coconut husk?" Egon stepped down with the leg not barnacled. Peter loosened his grip but didn't completely relinquish Egon's ass. "Be useful and take this." Egon pulled out the leather banded box.

Peter took it. "What have I told you about storing artifacts without telling me?" He leaned in for a quick kiss. Anything marked "Property Indiana Smith" up there?

"Chicago is not in New York and Area 49 keeps its secrets just like Lake Superior." Egon dismounted from the ladder, folded it and returned it to its spot. He took the box from Peter. "Nothing arcane in here." He marched for the front most living room window. "How is December 12th's schedule shaping up?" He handed the box again to Peter and started moving furniture about, then took the box back and set it on the table now under the window.

Peter watched Egon open the box. "Why haven't I seen that before?"

"I've always packed it well before any move."

Peter knew Egon knew what he meant. He let Egon have the time he was stalling for.

"My father didn't like drawing attention. I suppose I internalized that lesson."

Peter looked at Egon's hair and held his tongue. Contrarian impulses were something he knew well. Darius for that matter courted attention, but a particular rarefied sort. His suits had never been old, just their cut and even that was tweaked. He gave the impression he was taller than Egon, though they'd been of a height. Peter watched things come out of the box, Egon looking at them as if even he hadn't seen them in years. Finally he found what he sought and packed everything else back into the box. "What is it?"

It was brass, an arched plate punched and etched, with a line of eight spouted cups attached to the bottom, and a ninth cup on one side.

"An oil lamp. I'll have to get wicks."

Peter noticed it had been set into a stone trough, likely Japanese. There'd been a store Egon had liked back in their college days. There was also a small box beside it.

"You can open that." Egon picked up the larger box and went to return it to its spot.

Peter found that was easier said than done, but it wasn't a difficult puzzle box as they went. "Dreidels?"

"That surprises you?"

Peter looked back at the lamp.

"Candles are for dinner parties." Egon plucked three of the dreidels out and headed to the coffeetable. He got them all spinning. He looked at Peter who'd followed, still holding the box. Egon pulled out more, until the first of the dreidels lost their momentum and needed to be started again. "Sit down."

Peter did, still holding the box. The table was claimed by spinning tops.

"You can join in." Egon smiled. "They are a toy."

Peter quickly got several going, then noticed one veering into the path of another.

"That happens too. Sometimes they need a bit of paint." Once they impacted and fell, Egon righted them.

"No pennies?"

"Sometimes we'd play for hard candies. Mostly just get as many as we could get spinning and keep them spinning. The cousins and myself. Sometimes we could lure Uncle Cyrus, Uncle Mainz , or my father into joining us."

Peter looked at the small box.

"Those are what I brought to college." Egon leaned into the embrace Peter offered.

"December 12th. What about the other seven?"

"Likewise an early night on the 19th would be nice. But it's not a big thing."

"What was I telling Janine the other night?" Peter let go of Egon and sprung on the dreidels as they toppled. "So, why hasn't that box come out before?" He reminded himself this wasn't about him, or about Ray. It was about Egon.

"It was easier leaving it shut." Egon covered Peter's hand. "It's not rational, it's a family holiday, there were lots of reasons. That's not all that's in that box."

"I thought not." Peter turned his hand so he could clasp Egon's. "We're going to need to discuss holidays. Sorry I didn't know to pester you." He'd been very self-absorbed, not wondering at the irony of Egon prodding him about Christmas spirit. He thought a moment. "Food!"

"Sometimes you're as bad as Slimer." Egon smiled, as he was quite fond of Peter's appetites. "We'll need to get out the deep-fryer. It's all in not overfilling the basket. Couple doughnuts at a time. Don't forget I've seen you eat much worse."

"In my twenties." Egon looked at him. "Okay, so sometimes the job gets busy and whatever's closest will do. Have you ever seen hospital staff eat? No wonder the food sucks." He was going to have to work harder on that. Peter had noticed he didn't still have the metabolism of a kid. Fortunately the job compensated. "So, is Gherkin a boy or a girl?"

"I'd think it was a boys' name, and no, not acceptable."

Peter smiled at the drollery. "We do need a solution. And, if you know which type of name we need, that'd split the work in half."

"I don't see coming up with both types of names as much more work."

"You do know."

"I've not seen the ultrasounds."

"Really?"

"Really." Egon let go of Peter's hand so he could put his arm around him. "Have all of my suggestions been thoroughly unacceptable?"

"Lorenzo isn't bad, but he sounds like a cover model for one of Janine's romances." Peter watched Egon struggle and lose the battle against a grin. "Let me guess, he had a beard to make all of ZZ Top proud?"

* * *

Ray finished toweling off his hair and then headed for the living room. They weren't back as early as they'd planned, but they'd also had enough easy busts to get ahead even with calling it a night. He leaned into the kiss Janine gave him as he stepped through the doorway.

He came up for breath and slid them out from under the mistletoe. "Where's Winston?" Ray looked at the twinkling Christmas tree and then the oil lamp.

"In the kitchen with Egon." She'd decided against going to her mother's fete, which was Thursday night, as it was every year when that was neither first nor final night. She went with the positive. "I think there are going to be doughnuts." She'd been escorted from the kitchen and ensconced in the arm chair. Its springs were rather firmer than the couch's and a phone book made a good footrest.

"Really?"

"I didn't get a good look, but they weren't cutting potatoes. What else is a deep fryer for?" She leaned back as Ray pulled her into a hug, one hand cupped low on her belly.

Peter stopped in the doorway. Janine and Ray, plus Gherkin made two and a half, looked like a Hallmark commercial. Or a Christmas special.

Egon exited the kitchen, the boyos de fila waiting to be fried and the oil nearing temperature. He wondered if Peter was grandstanding under the mistletoe, stopped in the living room doorway. Egon looked past Peter's shoulder. He reached for Peter's cheek to turn him into a kiss.

Peter kept the kiss sweet, his hand covering Egon's. "So, what do we do?"

"Look attentive." Egon squeezed Peter's hand and eased him into the living room, following Peter through the doorway. He kept hold of Peter's hand until he reached the hanukkiah, rubbing his thumb over Peter's knuckles before letting go.

Egon struck a match and lit the right most wick of the cups in a line and then that at the side. "Barukh Atta Adonay Eloheynu Melekh Ha-olam" He completed the Lehadliq Ner Hanukkah, then recited She'asa Nisseem, and Sheheheyanu.

He paused for a moment. "I'll see to the boyos de fila." He retreated to the kitchen.

Winston came into the living room and joined his friends. Janine kissed him on the cheek.

"Sorry, I don't waddle that quickly."

Winston looked at the doorframe as he gave Janine a sideways hug. Mistletoe. He kissed her on the forehead. "Remember, it's roll, not waddle."

"If you say so. What is Egon making?"

"I'll just check up on him." Peter headed for the kitchen. " 'gon?"

Egon slid the puffed pastry onto the waiting sackcloth towel. "Peter."

"So, what are those?"

"Cheese-filled phyllo puffs. And those are for Janine." He shook the plate and rolled them over. "Would you get out a plate, knife and fork?"

Peter did so, and Egon nodding, transferred the puffs to the plate.

"Warn her they're likely to be very hot inside."

Peter kissed Egon's cheek and took the plate into the living room. "Where do you want to sit?"

"Those aren't doughnuts." Janine headed for the chair. Ray followed and handed her down into it. "Not that they don't look good."

"The safety advisory is that the contents might be very hot." He watched her cut into one and take a bite. "Ooh, these are delish. Like if a crab Egon and baklava got busy." She put a piece on her fork and offered to share.

"I'm sure Egon will get us all served." Peter was sure Spengs would come down on all of them hard. "Ray, your turn to go to the kitchen." Otherwise he'd be running back and forth and he got enough of that on the job.

"Sure, Peter."

"You don't recognize them?" Slim as she normally was, Janine knew food.

Janine fixed her eyes on Peter. "Different branch." Janine smiled as she ate another bite. "Think I can get the recipe?"

"I think that can be arranged." Peter was distracted by ways he could make Egon talk. Saying Egon didn't grasp there were no secret recipes from the mother of their unborn child. Which Peter would remind him if needed, but after he had had his fun.

Ray came back and sat on the floor beside Janine. He cut into one and took a bite. "You're right." He ate another bite. "Think we could do beet and sauerkraut pierogi later in the week?"

Peter went into the kitchen, ostensibly to get Winston's food. As much as they'd all turned Winston's life upside down, Peter unreasonably was jealous of Ray and Janine. "Hey." Peter smiled as Egon turned in acknowledgment. He reminded himself he was luckier than he had any reason to expect. It just wasn't in the way he'd been taught counted. "So, what did Janine mean by 'different branch' as far as not recognizing these?"

"Before there were Spenglers by that name, their fathers and father's fathers weren't from Eastern or central Europe but were Sephardi. Yiddish was the language of the Ashkenazi."

"And since there were Spenglers by name?"

"There was some intermarriage in Holland."

Winston stepped into the kitchen. "Oil cool down?"

"These," Egon nodded towards the fryer, "are almost done."

Winston got out a plate and cutlery, while the boyos de fila finished and had a quick moment on the towel.

"Guess these are mine then." Peter looked at the cooling plate while Egon slid the last into the oil.

"We'll share." He smiled as Peter went for utensils. He looked at Peter as he noticed the fork waving the speared morsel, deciding this wasn't the time for pointing out he could certainly manage a fork. He bit the food off, then chewed.

Peter finished chewing his first bite. "Janine was right." Egon looked at him. "She wants the recipe." He offered Egon another bite. "I am surprised you wouldn't at least have made these." Peter popped another piece into his own mouth.

Egon didn't answer, but instead scooped out the final puffs onto the towel and turned off the deepfryer. "We can join the others."

Peter plucked the hot pastries from the towel and piled them onto the plate he held. He led and Egon followed. "You started without us!" The coffeetable and chair had each been moved towards the other and Ray, Janine and Winston had varying amounts of M&Ms piled in front of them.

Janine giggled, then tossed Peter another snack bag. "Pull up some floor."

* * *

Peter eased Ecto to the curb, slush splatting the driven snow. "Got everything?"

Winston opened the passenger door, grabbed his overnight and the gifts for his parents. "I'm good."

"I know, I'll rinse her down. Sorry it's so late." Peter had known the financial district bust would take time. Just not quite so much.

"No slime, no crime. See you tomorrow." Winston took a moment to really see the lights before going up to the door and ringing the bell. The door opened quickly, and then he saw his sister-in-law. "Mom put you in the jumpseat."

"Only makes sense." She quickly whisked the packages under the tree perfecting the display. "We're almost to dessert, so don't fuss and you'll get real dinner after we send the kids to bed."

Winston smiled and slipped into his seat just as his served plate touched his placemat. He smiled at everyone, kissing his sister's cheek so the kiss could relay around the table to his mom. A quick 'close and prayer' and he ate the 'bit of everything' that wouldn't strain the kids' patience too badly and would tide him through dessert. Might make him anxious; there wasn't a Zeddemore that couldn't cook something right well. After the 'preview', there was pie, cake and ice cream, and Winston took the opportunity to have some of each of his favorites. His great-aunt pinched the back of his mom's hand under the table.

Promptly at the quarter 'til chime the kids had their plates clean, the smallest hurried just after by siblings and cousins. After a round of washcloths for faces and hands at the children's table, everyone went into the living room for a very carefully managed 'each child one gift' before the kids were hustled to bed.

"We're going to have to start earlier." Big Ed opined as he escorted Winston into the kitchen. He looked over the gathered bounty in the kitchen, getting a towel slapped at him. "That an invitation?"

Lucille answered, "To dry. Winston, the oven's warm, just plate up whatever you want and stick it in to reheat."

Winston already had an ironstone plate in hand. "Final bust ran a bit long." He made his choices and popped his plate in. His mom had a rule, if you made it for a holiday, you had no reason to apologize. Three o'clock in the morning, no matter. Explain, but not apologize. He gave her a kiss on the right cheek. "Wouldn't want you lopsided."

"Your friends could have come in."

"I'm sure they were loaded with bear." Big Ed danced away, winking at his son.

"Yeah. Not to mention the weather." He found a pot holder, folded it and sat down. "Actually, Dad, I've got a question for you, Ray and I put in an intercom, the wiring, but I--" He stopped, realizing he was about to get tangled up in a lie of suspicion. "It's a baby monitor, but you know how many places the firehouse is."

"Baby?" Uncle Lewis' cane hit the floor a bit hard.

Mom pulled the drain plug, washed her hands and guided Lewis back out.

"You want to start over again, before the request for professional assistance?"

Winston unfolded the pot holder. "Egon and Peter have a baby on the way. February."

"Egon and Peter both have children on the way?" The later didn't surprise him much, but the first... "Did your secretary finally land Doctor Spengler?"

"Child. No." Winston got up, went to the oven and took out his plate. Bringing it back to the table he applied himself to the excellent food.

"Wireless pickups. Which floor is the nursery on, second floor?" Edison considered the building from memory. "You'll need a booster on the main level, basement would be spotty coverage otherwise. Have you seen these yet, just like Star Trek, the new one. No mini skirts though."

"Yes, sliced off part of the kitchen." Winston was not discussing mini skirts with his dad.

"Your secretary still wearing them or is it too cold for her?"

Which was why he wasn't going there. "Been awhile."

"How's she taking this?"

"Who's taking what how?" Lucille came back into the kitchen. She went to the cabinet and got out storage containers.

"Janine's good. We're just talking about Egon and Peter's baby."

"Oh." She paused for a moment, looked at Ed. She focused on Winston. "When's the baby due?"

"February."

Lucille set the pyrex container down with a thud. "And you didn't say anything before now?" She paused for a moment. "Someone didn't spring this on Peter? When in February? They got a nursery put together?"

"Winston was just telling me about subdividing the kitchen. I'd like to take a look at that. I know, not a good time." Big Ed got up, and pulled out the cool whip containers. "What's the paint color?"

Winston watched his mother get out aluminum carryaway containers, and pack one with turkey and dressing. "Kermit. Trim matches the rest of the building."

"Doors?"

"Had enough originals."

"Nice. Safety ladder?"

Winston hadn't considered that. "Three floors?"

"Which ladder company has you boys? I'll call them next week." He judged his son's expression. "I'm a contractor. Different fire departments have different equipment."

Winston smiled.

Ed looked at his wife. "How much of that are you sending back with him?"

"They're four grown men and Janine's gotta eat too. Tiny women like that have fast metabolisms. Like birds."

"You don't have to do that." Winston backpedaled. "But I'm sure they'll enjoy it." He knew he did.

"Now, answer me this. Have you been sitting on this news or is this a recent doubleplay?"

"We did the remodel this summer." Winston kept eating. No fear, never show fear.

"Men. Ed, you be useful, I've got knitting and quilting to organize. February!" She left the kitchen.

Ed packed desserts and relish into the plastic, and oven reheats in the metal. "Ray eats ham?"

"Keep enough for your sandwiches." He watched his dad put some ham in the foil tin. "But you can trust Peter to eat greens, even as leftovers."

"Egon doesn't mind?" He was generous with the collards, he preferred them freshly cooked, but tucked the pieces of hock under the house's portion.

"Peter hates mushrooms. Doesn't mean Egon doesn't eat them." Winston wasn't going to point out Egon's pepperoni pizza 'habit'. "You're taking this in stride."

Ed sat down. "He's not been in the gossip columns lately. Glad it doesn't mean more than he's off the market." He snuck a sliver of ham that would try to escape any sandwich. "You?"

"I'm good." Winston read his father. "It was a process."

"Better to accept you were wrong than to keep being wrong." He got up. "I know I've not always backed your decisions. Sometimes they surprise me. I'll get that supplier name for the wireless system."

"Thanks."

* * *

Peter looked up from the couch. The tree shone nicely, and they were all full of Chinese food. "Presents time?"

"Yes!" Janine tried to sit up more fully, Ray giving her the leverage the couch couldn't.

Peter made a production of 'randomly' selecting a present, checking the tag and then handed it to Janine. She made quick work of the paper and then stared at the turquoise box. She looked at Peter, then opened the lid.

"They're beautiful!" Each long earring bore caged pearls at the ends of staggered length chains. She fingered them, then quickly removed her current pair and put in her gift. "How do they look?"

Ray replied, "You're gorgeous."

Peter pulled out another gift and handed it to Egon. The size and heft suggested a book. Egon looked at the tag and nodded at Ray before opening the package. Egon looked at the revealed cover and gently opened it. "Thank you very much, Ray."

Peter looked on at Egon's clear enthrallment with his gift. He hoped to get some of that attention later. Peter dug under the tree for the next present to hand to its recipient. Before he handed the box to Ray Egon realized he'd gotten lost, got up, pulled out one of his other books and placed his new book on the shelf.

"Sorry."

"I'm glad you like it." Ray turned as Peter cleared his throat. He looked at the large box, wrapped in holographic paper. "Ooh." He deftly sliced the tape free and closed his pocketknife, putting it back into his pocket, before lifting the lid from the box. He smiled. "Thanks, Janine." He took the shirt out, holding it up.

"Fashion show later." Peter suspected a few more boxes here were also from Janine to Ray. Rather, he knew they were and Peter lay very good odds they held more clothes. He once more fished under the tree. "Look, one for me." He ripped off the paper, a particularly crinkly sort. He bellylaughed. He'd gotten Egon to agree that they'd 'shop small' for each other. This, however, was priceless.

"Share with the rest of the room, Dr. V."

Peter laughed a bit more. "Package of Egon's knickers."

Janine pealed. Ray joined in, after seeing that Egon had foreseen this reaction.

Peter moved aside the pile of gifts either for or from Winston, and found a gift to hand Janine.

She unrolled the scarf from the outside of the oblong, then undid the twine's knot holding the kraft paper on. Janine pulled the box out and opened it. "Oh!" Red good luck knots spaced five jade puzzle balls, the largest about two inches across. She looked at the center one, counting layers. "It's wonderful, Ray."

"Would you mind if I took a look?"

"Go ahead, Egon."

Peter figured he might as well leave Egon a bit distracted and found one of the gifts for him. He looked at the tag; sometimes Janine's and Winston's looked similar. He was a bit slower unwrapping this one. "A photo album?" It was empty.

"You'll fill it up fast once the pickle is posing for the camera." She smiled as Peter grasped her meaning. "Go ahead, pull out a few for each of these two."

Peter passed several to Egon, including his own gift, while Ray was handed two more from Janine. Peter listened for the jingle of the door downstairs. There. He counted time while Winston locked back up and climbed the stairs. "Hey, Winston, how's the family?" Peter looked up. "How much of that is food?!" He got up from the floor. With the size of the Zeddemore family they had rules about how much exchanging the adults did.

"This whole bag. Where's Slimer?" Their ghost had been very good lately, but his mom's cooking was a temptation.

"Probably dumpster dining." Peter thought about how Ray had trained Slimer to recognize and avoid the 'trash cans' restaurant workers used for basically good food so the homeless weren't scavenging through raw meat and rotten vegetables. "Let's get that stowed." Once they were in the kitchen he explained that Janine had gotten Ray clothes.

Winston mulled that. "That might not be bad." Ray had worn hand-me-downs for so long that he wasn't very picky when he bought things. "Oh." He put the last container in the fridge, then headed into the living room.

"Go on, try it on." Janine thought the shirt would look yummy on Ray.

"Oh, all right." Ray unbuttoned his shirt and exchanged it with the new one.

Winston went over to the couch. "Looks good, Ray." Janine had over-shopped, which was understandable displacement. Just... "New earrings?"

Janine smiled. "Oh, Ray got me a necklace." She displayed it in its box.

Winston saw it was a very nice set of puzzle balls. He didn't think she'd wear them very often.

"Find somewhere to sit, about half of that is yours." Peter slipped back onto the floor, and passed Winston one of his gifts. Peter saw a picture frame on the coffee table, and some pen ink cartridges.

"This will be handy." Winston slipped the 'shopping list'/bookmark further into "A Catalogue of Crime". "I'd been meaning to get a copy. Thanks, Pete."

Peter smiled, then passed Ray a gift from Winston.

Ray unwrapped this with more abandon. "Winston!" He opened one of the small boxes.

"Trading cards?" Peter always paid especial attention to things that really grabbed Ray.

"Sorta. More like a book deck. This one is classic comic art, and this one science fiction images." He flipped through the comics deck.

Peter saw that the third deck was pure cheesecake. Peter figured it was time he unwrapped another gift. Paper off, he opened the hardbound book. "Why's this book empty?" The pages were all blank except for page numbers.

"Because you're the one that's going to write it." Winston smiled at Peter's look of apoplexy. "You can read your own handwriting, I've seen you do it."

They picked up the pace after that. Winston got a book from Egon, Peter a small leather football, a carved paperweight and short stack of world postcards from Ray. Egon gave Ray preregistration to the science fiction con and Peter likewise gave a comic convention pre-reg. Egon and Janine each got books from Winston, who got two 'will call' baseball tickets for the Jaguars from Peter. Egon gave a bottle of perfume to Janine, and Ray gave Winston a wooden puzzle box. Janine got Winston cologne. As Winston and Egon tidied up, Peter went to reheat leftovers.

* * *

Miriam Spengler handed the cabbie the bills to cover her fare and a fair tip. "Please wait until I'm inside." She opened the car door, got out and closed it, then walked to the small door inset in the car bay door. The knob turned and she saw the light at the far end and heard voices. She stepped inside and the taxi pulled away. Miriam removed her coat as she approached the reception desk.

Janine naturally was on the phone, switching between lines and scratching down notes. She saw that Ray, unexpectedly, was rubbing Janine's shoulders, and he was so focused on the task he hadn't noticed her own approach. Miriam glanced back at the retrofitted ambulance, and the streams of riming water running towards the drain. Now at the coatrack, she hung up her coat.

Janine noticed her, and Ray looked, his hands dropping to his sides. Miriam focused on Janine's very pregnant condition and the outré fact she was sitting on a large ball.

"Mrs. Spengler!" Ray stepped around the desk and enfolded his friend's mother.

Hugging back, "Raymond, you may call me Miriam." She'd been telling him this for years. Almost as long as his exuberance had overwhelmed his initial shyness. He broke the hug, his expression the frownysmile she read as 'sorry, I'll try harder.' "It's okay. Is Egon in the lab?"

Winston came up from the basement, his foot hovering at the threshold as he saw Egon's mom with Janine and Ray. He took it for granted that Egon had not apprised his mother of who was the surrogate to the to-be newest Spengler. Now he was filled with a certainty that Egon had not informed his mother she would shortly be a grandmother. Going right back down the stairs appealed strongly. Instead he dropped one foot and picked up the other until he'd left the door well behind him. "Mrs. Spengler." Judging that Janine also had figured out that Egon had not told his mom, Winston sat down on the desk, between the two women. He heard one of the desk drawers open and then the subtle crunch of a chocolate covered pretzel.

"Are you okay, dear?" Miriam pondered, noting how close Ray was again standing to Janine, and Winston's conscious block. Now, it was true once Janine would have been considered to be in an indelicate condition, but Peter at the least wouldn't have been silenced by outmoded 'propriety'. No, something was going on, otherwise some mention of Ray and Janine would have been shared. She turned as she heard the low bell-like tone of the firepole and Peter slid into view. "Peter." Miriam approached such that he could see Janine was at her desk.

"Hi, Mom." He didn't know what had tipped her off, but he knew she knew something was off. It had nothing to do with his 'Petey sense', and everything with being Charlie's son. He kissed her cheek. Knowing a con was made was the difference between escape and time. "How was your trip?"

Miriam permitted Peter's glad-handing, aware he was aware she was aware there was something to be aware of. Darius had never warmed to Peter; they were both intensely private men, though Darius had always considered it shiftiness in Peter. Peter in his worn-out jeans and 'too long' hair was chaos incarnate to Darius; Peter was more than happy to oblige that suspicion. It was the furthest thing from the truth.

"You two sure you don't want a lift?" Winston really wanted an out.

"You're sweet." Janine was not riding to her lamaze class in Ecto. She looked at her watch. "Ray, we should leave." She smiled at Peter as she got up and Ray helped her into her coat. It would take her time to walk to the subway.

Egon came down the stairs at this point. "Hello, Mom." He went to her and kissed her cheek.

The door clicked shut.

"When is she due?"

"Next month."

"And, mentioning this didn't occur to you, either of you?" Ray she couldn't convince he could call or write her in his own right. She considered for a moment, while mentally shuffling her schedule to shop tomorrow. "Is Ray moving out or is she moving in?"

"Currently she's living here." Egon thought a moment. "I suppose she won't return to her apartment right after the delivery." Egon's ears pinked. "She won't be able to stay in the nursery." He looked to Peter. Then he looked back to his mother, spine straight and smiled.

Peter couldn't breathe. Miriam had been not-told told and was suspended in the moment before she decoded her son. He saw understanding dawn. Peter almost heard shutters latched over the natural questions.

"Peter, please don a jacket and a tie. We're going to dinner." She walked to the reception desk.

Winston hurried to grab a chair from Peter's office and offer it to Egon's mom.

* * *

Peter waited for her to break the silence. He'd waited through the cab ride, and to be seated at the restaurant. He kept from falling on the bread and olive spread, though as soon as the waiter left with their order he occupied his hands and then chewed.

"Would you like to give your own explanation?" She was tense with the possibilities, which she refused to allow to coalesce. The enormity of them all... One she could bear.

"Congratulations, it's a grandchild?" Peter dropped the bread on its plate. "Janine's our surrogate." His hand went back to the bread, though he didn't pick it up. He nudged it. "Don't know if there will be a bris, I mean, I don't know whether it's a boy or a girl."

She realized Peter was anxious; Egon had disordered their lives rather spectacularly. "What color is the nursery?"

"Green. Apple green?" It was cheery, completely unlike institutional green, and more intense than mint.

"I'll need the paintchip. How are you about this?" She covered his free hand with her right.

Her hand was cool, even cooler than usual. "Scared, anxious and excited." He read the question she wasn't asking, wouldn't ask. "No, he didn't spring this on me."

She exhaled. The worst possibilities vanished like vapor. She laughed. Seeing Peter's look of concern she gripped his hand. Finally, she found her voice. "Good." She wouldn't pry into why Peter hadn't told her. "That's how I remember it, too."

Peter looked at her in confusion, then picked up his bread and bit. Her face was still pale, her poise much more rigid than normal.

"Of course, by this point there was a certain amount of frustration and discomfort as well." She wondered about that ball. It would tend to improve the back, and likely the legs. "Try to stay in the moment." It had all gone by so fast. "Don't fight your instincts." She thought about that. "The softer ones, that is. There will be times, well, I'm sure you've had them with Egon." She'd fortunately kept the kitchen and dining rooms locked when not in use until he was in his teens.

"Once or twice." He grinned; she was angry but not with him. Egon had ridden his frustration that first year almost constantly. He supposed he'd tried Egon's patience nearly as much. Finding Ray had been been a stroke of luck the next year.

"You'll do fine." It wouldn't always feel like it, but she figured Peter was aware of that already. "Do you have a crib yet?" His expression made it clear they did not. "Rocking chair?"

Peter was confused.

"It's difficult to get the angle right for feeding in a normal chair." She considered for a moment. "Let me arrange for the crib."

"You don't have to do that."

"I want to." She considered how Peter would react, knowing that she'd likely spend more than he'd ever paid for furniture and that he'd be able to tell. "Peter, get Egon into a furniture store to find a correctly sized rocking chair." There was no reason they couldn't share the feeding responsibilities, though she did wish the dirtiest diapers on her son.

"You're taking the fun one." He accepted her play in good spirits.

"Grandma's prerogative." This time her smile did reach up past her cheeks.

With that their appetizers arrived.

* * *

When Peter got back to the firehouse he went straight to the lab. He'd called Winston from the restaurant to let him off the tenterhooks. Naturally Egon was engrossed and equally naturally, Peter had no idea what the experiment was. "You know that was not the right way to break the news?" Peter acknowledged his part wasn't his finest moment either. He had never figured how to get around the fact of Janine as their surrogate. A fool's dream. Miriam graciously wasn't calling him on it.

"How is Mom?"

"You get to squire her at her dinner two nights hence. I offered you for breakfast tomorrow, she accepted. There's a kosher bakery on the way to her club."

"You just want to sleep in."

"Ah, but I get family breakfast." At least Janine and Ray had already gotten outside before Egon's demonstration. "How much longer does that need you?"

"Ten, fifteen minutes."

"I'll go brush my teeth."

Peter did, after changing into his pajamas. The living room had been dark when he'd come in. He'd have to sound Janine out as to how she wanted to deal with things after the birth. He realized he could send the paintchip with Egon. If he knew where it was. He went to the bunkroom and knocked.

"Come in, Peter."

Peter opened the door and stepped in. "How'd you know it was me?" Winston looked at him and Peter acknowledged it was elementary. "We got a paintchip for the nursery?"

"On Ray's dresser."

Peter thought that was an odd place, though it was the taller set of drawers and closer to the door. He noticed it wasn't just one, or even two, assuming that one might get lost. "Winston?"

"Ask me no questions. How was dinner?"

Peter answered Winston's real inquiry. "Egon's having breakfast with his mother, we'll pick him up on the next block."

Winston exhaled. "Make sure the suit bag is in Ecto before we leave."

Check. Not only would Egon be wearing a jacket, he'd be wearing his wool coat. "Night." He waved the paintchip and pulled the door shut. Peter went into his and Egon's room, dropping the chip beside Egon's organizer before going to their bed. He spent so much time on the lab couch because he didn't like getting into bed alone anymore. He turned down the bed and sat on his side.

Egon stepped into the room and started to undress, back to the bed.

"Turn around." Peter pulled Egon's nightshirt out from under Egon's pillow. "She's upset because she loves you. _I_ love you." Peter smiled as Egon spun around. "I didn't manage to tell her either."

Egon shed the rest of his clothes, took off his glasses and slipped his nightshirt on. He, once in bed, allowed Peter to draw him close.

* * *

Egon, an exclamation point in camel, the bakery bag in his gloved hand, walked up the stairs and entered the door of the private club. Inside he removed his gloves, and then his coat, hanging the latter on a hanger before stepping into the day room. His mom was sitting at the only table made up. He joined her, setting the bag on the table, and pulling out a chair once she tipped her head in permission.

Miriam opened the bag and selected out two baked goods and placed them on the saucers. "Peter mentioned Janine's your surrogate. Am I correct understanding that as gestational?"

"Yes."

Miriam exhaled deeply. "You're correct she won't be able to sleep in the nursery after the delivery." Janine's boundaries emphatically were different than her own, but some things... "Janine will forever be your child's mother. You've done that. No amount of omission or delusion-- The combination of pride and deception you evidenced yesterday shamed me. Peter and Winston both looked like they wished to be swallowed by the earth." That couldn't be safe in the Firehouse, what if something had been listening?

Miriam wished that her digestion was a durable as Peter's, eating would give her something to do. Instead she was left watching her son's face, now so inscrutable. They, she, had done that, had trained him not to show his emotions. She lifted her hand and across the table touched his face. She'd never thought to teach him when he could show his emotions. "Peter says you discussed this, having a child." She expected that was the truth; a truth that only went exactly as far as Peter framed it.

"Yes."

Miriam closed her eyes and reopened them, dropping her hand to her son's. "Did you do this to please me?"

"I offered to please Peter and myself." A smile manifested. "He accepted."

"Mazel tov!" She squeezed Egon's hand. "Eat your breakfast." She let go of his hand and followed her own instruction. She allowed herself one additional comment. "You know Peter mentioned a bris, if it's a boy?"

Egon's ears tinted pink. He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out the paintchip. "Peter mentioned you requested this." He extended the sample to his mother. "The ceiling is a very pale sky blue."

She took the sample. "That's fun." Miriam glanced at her watch. "How much time did Peter allow?"

"Somewhat more than we've used. There's a dinner tomorrow evening?"

"That's not a problem, is it? I wouldn't want to inconvenience you."

Egon arched his eyebrow. "Black tie?"

She raised him an eyebrow. "We're smart cookies." And she was getting a granddaughter. "Hetty has returned from her year in New Zealand. She's still deciding on which school to go to."

* * *

She needed to follow her own instruction. Miriam concluded her shopping and she took a cab to the Firehouse with a brief stop for blintzes. She slipped inside, bags and all, with ease.

Janine put the call on hold. "They're out. Don't expect them until late." She finished the call, aware of Egon's mother setting down her bags, taking off her coat and pulling a chair from the playpen. She took one more call while the older woman sat down and pulled out blintzes, then Janine routed the phone to voicemail. "Mrs. Spengler?"

"Please, call me Miriam." She nudged the food closer to Janine. "Eat."

Janine smiled and dug into the treat. Between one bite and the next, nodding at the bags she asked, "Good shopping?"

"It took awhile, but I found the perfect crib." Solid hardwood, and no moving parts. "Where can I leave the card so it can be called for delivery?"

Janine thought about that while she chewed. "Guess we better put it where Winston will know where it is." Things would fall on him when the time came, as far as rescheduling busts. Peter would be a cooing marshmallow. "The desk log will be perfect." She pulled it out and dug in her paperclip cup for one of the square ones. She looked at Mrs. S--, Miriam. "What's it look like? The crib?"

"It's oval and the stiles go all the way around." Good for curious babies to see out. "Should provide less temptation when things get tossed to the floor." And if the baby did attempt to escape there was no way to get hung up on the rail. She proffered the card from her purse.

Janine clipped the card to the ledger. She could tell Miriam had questions her good manners stifled. "What's the occasion?" She dug back into the blintz.

"Could I take you shopping?" She continued, taking advantage of Janine being midbite. "We could go the day after tomorrow. Just a light excursion, a way to get to know each other better. I'm sure I can get you some time off."

"Mrs., Miriam. I'm a partner. It wouldn't be--"

"Mazel tov!"

Janine was confused then smiled. "Thanks. It's a busy time, not like October through December--"

"Think of it as an opportunity to test a temp." She'd stepped into the breach once and she knew she'd only done a small part of Janine's job. "You're going to need some time, afterwards."

Janine kept eating while she tried to think of a good--but the older woman was right, and Miriam had refrained from pointing out how it'd be with a totally new temp and living just upstairs. "All right. I'll need the morning to walk the temp through, but then we can go shopping, day after tomorrow."

"It'll be fun."

Janine wasn't totally convinced, but she was certain it'd be different than shopping with her mother. She smiled. "Say 10:30?" Janine, after nodding to Peter's office for access to the second line, opened her phone back from voicemail.

* * *

A band of six played on the club's small stage, shakere underpinning hammer dulcimer while the other percussionist-singers switched between drums, claves and many others Winston would have to look up the names for as song led to new song. The small venue was packed and Winston had happily let several ladies share his and Ray's table. He'd smiled as he registered recognition alight after they'd settled in. The musicians ended their set and commended the wait staff to the audience as the applause lessened.

Two of the women indicated they were going to try talking to the band; Winston figured they meant Håkon and the band. Ray was talking animatedly with one of the girls, who from her end sounded to be in the department of public works, or maybe taxi dispatch. Winston talked amiably with the one sitting closest to him, having already noticed her engagement ring. Soon drinks were brought, the women returned and the break was over, the next set starting. He was glad he'd seen a flyer during that morning's bust.

He wondered how Ray and Janine would weather when there wasn't the insta-family lite vibe. Winston settled into the music, knowing nothing could, or should, be done. He might be worried for no reason. Ray looked to be understanding the lyrics at least in part, suggesting this song was either in Swedish or one of the Celtic languages. He didn't think Ray had started picking up Wolof. It certainly wasn't a Romance language.

* * *

Peter sat up on the couch and turned on the CD player by remote. He'd been on his best behavior that evening, not wrinkling nor rumpling Egon before sending him to an entire ballroom of smart, brainy women. Peter expected Egon returned in the same condition.

The four of them had had a family supper of chicken cheddar mac followed by a cutthroat Scrabble tournament that left him and Ray flailing. Janine and Winston were 'reconciled' over a fancy dress mystery movie. Peter had even spent some time playing with Slimer which had led to him needing another shower.

Egon approached the living room. "Peter?" He was wearing dress slacks and shirt, the collar unbuttoned, not the jeans and t-shirt he'd thrown on earlier. Egon noticed the music. "May I have this dance?"

Peter slid into place quickly. Egon's condition met his approval. "Mom have a good time?"

"Yes, Peter." Egon stroked his finger along Peter's spine shutting down other inane questions. He pulled them close, a bit too close had they been dancing in public. Peter needed reassurance and he needed Peter. "You shaved." He whispered the words in Peter's ear. Egon liked date-night Peter all to himself.

Peter smiled, equally amused by wound-up Egon and being danced around the furniture. Several songs later he almost considered he'd made an error, until the CD was shut off.

"The band won't mind."

Peter turned Egon around and herded him to the spiral staircase. Much more of that voice and Peter wouldn't be responsible. They managed not to clang their way up, Peter hanging back for the view. Didn't have to see the ass to appreciate the way it moved. He grinned, Egon having already shed his tuxedo jacket back onto its hanger by the time Peter slipped into their room. The dark blue vest against the starched white shirt accentuated Egon's shoulders. "In a rush?"

Egon abandoned his vest front and claimed Peter, mouth first. The better Peter dressed the more obvious it was that he was naked under his clothes. Purposeful, self-inflicted disarray-

"Pants." As he said it, and then was nudged arm's length away, he realized how inadequate the instruction was. The suspenders held up the tuxedo trousers, and the vest covered the suspenders. He knew that, he'd watched Egon get dressed.

Cufflinks into the tray. Peter watched Egon's long fingers dark compared to cloth and metal. Leather strap through buckle.

Vest unbuttoned, shrugged off and set aside. Suspenders ultramidnight blue vertical strokes, the next thing to black, like Egon's dilated eyes.

Studs one after the other also into the tray, again fingers not already on him.

"You're killing me here." Peter was riveted.

Egon unknotted his bowtie, dropped it on his dresser and pushed the suspenders down each arm. "You're not keeping up." Key case. The only thing Egon put in his pants' pocket.

Peter knelt down to untie his damn shoes then shed them and his socks. He looked up. "How'd I not notice you buttoning those?" Peter stood and eased down his own zipper.

Egon freed the last one, stepped out of each leg, mated the ankles and snapped the pants before clamping them in a hanger. He latched his mouth over Peter's.

Peter burrowed his hands under Egon's A-shirt. Any friction was good right now, Egon's hands on his ass Brilliant. His trousers pooled on the floor and Peter steered Egon back to the bed, the blankets turned down.

Peter looked down along Egon's throat, needing to breathe. One button. Egon's collar had a button holding it shut. Peter stared at it, then acknowledged it wouldn't disappear much as he wanted it to, and pulled his hands down and away from Egon's chest. Peter unbuttoned the sole button carefully. He grasped Egon's neck, one hand sliding up the nape to dig out Egon's tail.

Egon wrapped his arms around Peter, working his lips back to Peter's mouth. Horizontal was escaping him, his fingers stymied by Peter's shirt. Skin.

Peter ran his hands over Egon's shoulders under his shirt, reaching bare skin and the tops of Egon's arms. He pressed Egon down, and flowed to the floor, pulling at Egon's boxers.

Egon knitted his fingers into Peter's hair, though not to pull him forward. Pleasant distraction. Counter-sensation.

Peter was flat on his back in bed, bodypinned and his wrists held above his head. He moaned against Egon's mouth, their tongues tangling. Completion screamed through him.

Peter fondled Egon's fingers as he tipped him left, grinning as he saw at length his lover's socks and garters. Peter got himself the rest of the way out of his boxerbriefs, then tried to wrest Egon from his shirt. "Open those eyes and lift up."

Egon pressed his hand over Peter's chest framed by the shirt sides. "Good look."

* * *

Janine looked at her desk. She'd warned the guys when they left to be nice to the temp, since training one was hard enough without them scaring her. How was she supposed to know Carol was Carroll? He and Slimer had both been wary during their introduction, but lack of panic on one side and shyness on the other suited her needs. Carroll's shirt and tie wouldn't look so nice green. "Think you can handle it?"

"Betcha, Ms Melnitz." He hit the queue button wading into the verbal stream. Torrent.

Janine grabbed her coat and walked towards the door.

 _Five Hours Later_

Janine was impressed. Not by the car and driver, though they were certainly welcome after the second store. Just the even, pleasant manner with which Miriam found exactly what she sought. Now they were nibbling at a Nepalese restaurant and she was convinced Richard Gere was three tables over, by the rice-bestrung statue. Certainly looked like the back of his head.

"How are you doing?" Miriam considered she might be overtaxing the younger woman. She hoped she'd worked in enough rest breaks.

"These are good." She'd not thought pierogies had made it to the Himalayas; so they had a different name and spices and the potato was diced. It certainly wasn't a ravioli. "I'm fine." The baby admittedly had taken up soft shoe on her bladder but the boutiques seemed to expect that. "You really didn't need to buy me that dress." Miriam had been very firm their excursion was her treat, but a party dress?!

"Oh, you will need that. Giving birth really only sheds three months, but what a three months." Janine would deserve a glamour night after all this. "You'll have plenty of pep in your step, not too long afterwards." Physically; the perfect thing to wear would marshal that impulse. She'd put a bug in Peter's ear, in case Raymond needed some guidance. There wouldn't be a better moment. "Janine, I want to ask you something. How are my boys treating you?"

Janine giggled, she couldn't help herself. Ray was treating her very well, though that wasn't what the older woman was asking, though clearly she was including Ray in her question. Dr. V considered in the maternal possessive seemed-- "How strange is this for you?" It hadn't been what Janine had meant to say, but she realized it was the real question.

Miriam mulled the question and sipped at her lassi. "Even before, I think I'd assumed I wasn't going to get grandchildren from Egon." He got older every year and she had no reason to believe he knew how to hold the attention of a younger woman; when she'd discovered the guestroom's conversion, Peter was also out, leaving Ray as a somewhat nebulous chance. As it was, her sister had grandchildren more than a decade older. Cyrus likewise. "It was a surprise. A happy one."

"Go on, get it all out." Egon's tells were writ larger than his mother's, but his reticence wasn't totally paternal as she'd assumed. Peter had said the Uncle was a stitch compared to Egon's father.

"You seem an odd choice, and it's an odd choice for you to make as well." Peter had frequently added accounts of his yentaing between her son and Janine as postscripts. There had to have been difficulties all around.

Mrs. Spengler was sharp while her words were not. Janine had done some research into surrogacy, its normative practice outside sisters. It had frankly half-given her the creeps. "It's still going to hit them like bricks, even with having me underfoot. Outta sight really is outta mind, if it's not a spore or a psychosis. Getting a call nine months later to fly out for your kid?" She'd seen the pictures Ray and Winston took when Peter felt Gherkin kick. "It's working out."

Miriam decided that was as much as she'd learn. As much as they thought she should know. "So, I think we finish up here and then we should pick up something for Ray and for Winston."

* * *

Ray had just come up from the basement as the door opened and several shopping bags entered. He rushed over, taking bags in turn making sure of their heft before doubling, tripling them in the other hand. "Good day?"

Janine slipped inside, taking half the bags Miriam was holding. Miriam handed Ray several bags then pulled the door shut, following Janine.

Ray followed in their wake. "Mrs. Sp--Miriam, are you staying for supper?"

"Oh, no, Raymond. I just wanted to see Janine inside. I'll call later this evening, eleven isn't too late?" She set down the bags she held, touched Janine on the arm, then Ray on the shoulder, before heading back to the door.

Ray boggled at the bags in their diverse colors. "Some shopping trip."

"Yeah." Janine selected several bags and started for the stairs.

"Janine." Ray followed after her, uncertain which bags he could leave behind.

She turned her head. "What, Ray?"

"Um." Ray looked at her hands gripping the handles. "Couldn't I take some of that up for you?"

Janine looked at Ray's sizable load. "I'm fine." She headed upstairs.

Ray followed. He set the bags he held down by the nursery door. "I'll just go get the rest, lock up."

"Okay." Janine set the bags with things for her on her bed, then ferried the other bags in and started stacking boxes on the changing table dresser. Finished with those, she sat down.

Soon Ray came in with the rest of the bags. He set them down and went to Janine.

"I'm fine." She stretched her neck as Ray rubbed her shoulders, pulling her legs onto the bed.

Ray kept his concern to himself, expecting its expression to prove counterproductive.

* * *

Peter rolled over and snuggled against Egon's back. He had hoped that they would have made progress on the naming issue after the holidays, but they hadn't moved. Egon's choices were still too weird and all the names he thought normal but not overused were 'problematic'. He just wanted the best for their child and "Wilhelmina" didn't so strike him.

"Peter?" Egon reached back without rolling over. He exhaled contentedly as Peter draped an arm over him.

"I'm going to ask Winston. Unless you've got late breaking choices." Peter nuzzled Egon's neck where it met the shoulder. "Will you accept what he comes up with?"

Egon turned his head. "You're worried."

"Janine really could have our kid any time now. That plus or minus to nine months isn't all forgetfulness."

"Ask Winston. I'll abide by his decision, we'll hear it together."

"Okay." Peter kissed Egon on the nape.

Egon rolled over and kissed Peter's mouth, encircling him with one arm.

* * *

"What do you need, Pete?" Winston spoke from inside Ecto's hood. Winter wasn't over by a long shot but it was time for more than just regular maintenance.

"Two name suggestions."

Winston pulled himself out and looked at Peter. "You two still can't agree?" He wiped his hands on a rag.

"Egon's agreed that we're stuck."

"Peter." Winston leaned against Ecto's grill. "I don't want to be dragged into the middle."

"That's why you'll tell us at the same time. I wouldn't ask if I didn't know you'd do a good job."

Winston rubbed his eyes. "I'll think on it. No promises, except I'll tell you what I've come up with at the end of the week. And yes, I've heard the complaints you've each raised. But no pestering. Got it?"

"Thanks, Zed." Peter patted Winston on the shoulder.

Winston sighed, then got back to his task with Ecto.

* * *

"Janine?" Ray had not missed that Janine was increasingly self-conscious of her nude body. She demurred as they turned in, or she turned in early, signaling interest only once the lights were off. She was marvelously ripe and Ray had considered how to convince her of this.

Janine leaned back against Ray and played her hand over his arm slung along her side. "Yay?"

"Would you like a henna artist? Have your feet, hands painted, you could have some friends over, make a party of it?"

"Breathe. Say it again?" She was paying more attention to his drifting hand caressing her stomach.

"It's traditional body makeup where the plant grows, especially at major life events. I just thought..."

"You know someone, don't ya?" She could tell he was nervous, he talked so fast you expected a traffic cop; it was cute considering he baldly spake to gods and other eldritch critters. She'd fallen out of touch with her crew as they married and had kids, though it had seemed just ebb and flow, like she'd catch up. Maybe she would have had she been sent somewhere else by the temp agency. "Maybe Lisa and Trudie would come over..."

"Does it sound fun?" Ray had always figured Janine knew lots of people, that they just didn't intersect with that part of her life.

"Yeah." Ray was a good sport, and his friends were always interesting. "Who is she?" It paid though to remind him of gender.

"I'll find out if Hildi is available." He hugged her shoulders and kissed Janine's neck.

* * *

"Lisa, can't Richard watch Victor one night?" Trudie listened to how he had a very important presentation, before cutting her sister-in-law off. "I'll send Ralph over." She mentally planned the dinner she'd use to make it up to her husband, her nephew being a handful. "Yes, I do think this is that important." She was just glad Janine had called her first. Trudie couldn't believe Lisa didn't get it, but then Janine was the baby sister. Neither of them was strictly honest with the other. "That would be perfect to bring." She let Lisa preen a bit over Victor before reminding her to call Janine and let her know she'd arranged things and could come after all.

Call over, Trudie considered Nathan and Elliot's evenings before picking up the phone again.

* * *

Winston braced himself, his week having passed too quickly. He'd contemplated the Old Testament, the various name books Peter had acquired, and several biographical dictionaries of literature. Should the child be a boy, he'd come up with two. Isaac wasn't so common that Peter would balk and yet people could say it, or there was Milton. He wished he'd thought to ask just how Egon had been named.

A girl's name eluded him for the longest time. He had drifted off compiling a list of the names he'd overheard Peter and Egon bandying back and forth. That was his only explanation for the dream he'd had. The women had been in their fifties or early sixties, and he a teen, though the youngest of them had been very old women when he'd been a small boy, the others known only from stories and silvery photographs. They had put him to work, hard work, such that he'd wished he was older in the dream. Chopping wood, hauling water, killing chickens and goats. All things he knew many of these women had done in their lives. In the dream they quilted while he labored, brought the cauldron to a roil and put in the cleaned chickens and chunks of goat. They sent him to fields to dig potatoes, turnips and other root crops. He washed and peeled while they sewed.

Exhausted, he crumpled under a tree, one whose canopy he didn't know. He was splashed with water, not sweet as he'd drawn, but salt. The old woman, not that she looked it here, but she'd been in her nineties when he'd been a scrap of a boy, laughed as he spluttered. She'd been born free unlike her elders, the first in this land.

"Wash up." She left him, spine straight.

Winston found this bucket's water warm, though again it was salt not fresh. There was a cake of soap, a hemmed piece of burlap and a length of sacking. He scrubbed and rinsed and toweled off. The pants he'd worn had disappeared, replaced by robes. He donned them, surprised he knew how. He felt older, not his own age, but no longer a kid. He headed to the quilting bee.

The women were now all in Sunday best, their hats elegant and ample, though several wore no shoes. They stood and he approached the quilt. It switched between patterns he recognized and pictures of his life as rendered in cloth and thread. Not just his life he realized.

"Brothers be, pieced together though woven by many hands."

One of the barefoot women came forward, marking him in blood with her fingers. Another thrust a bowl into his hands, and the assembled women dipped their fingers in and daubed themselves with blood.

Winston hadn't seen more of the dream, the emergency alarm going off at that point. The dream did set him to thinking, first about his kinswomen, and then about girls' names.

He knocked on the lab door, wishing to be sent away. Instead he was welcomed. He saw that a chair had been pulled in front of the couch and draped with one of the living room throws. Egon sat down beside Peter.

Winston took his spot. "I came up with three names, two boys' names, one girl's name. Isaac and Milton are self-explanatory. The girl's name comes from my grandfather's great-aunt."

"Go on." Peter was resigned to an old-fashioned, Old Testament name. He'd just have to practice saying it, if Gherkin was a girl.

"Athena." Winston waited, thinking of the stories she'd told him, of the saltwater spring and the olive tree among others, and the versions he'd read in school and reread after joining the business.

Egon was torn. He'd agreed to accept Winston's choices, yet he'd not expected this option. His mother wouldn't be pleased, yet he acknowledged it appealed to him. He turned to Peter where he saw relief and hope. He turned back to Winston and smiled. "Thank you." He could handle his mom; Peter happy was more pressing.

"Thanks, Zed." It was a big relief, knowing that they were prepared as to a name. " 'gon, you good with Milt, if he's a boy?"

"Milton will be fine."

Peter smiled. This was their usual baiting, and he'd missed it. He focused back on Winston. "Let's keep these close, okay?"

"Sure thing, homeboy." Winston got up and left the lab.

* * *

Soon. Slimer felt It was coming Soon. The rest felt it too. Not a Gate. Janine yelled at him if he strayed too close. She was round like the hotel platters, not shiny. Peter made faces when she snacked.

"Slimer, you need to stay out of the living room tonight. Slimer."

Ray didn't play with him much. Ray didn't sleep in the bunkroom.

"Slimer." Ray held up the graham cracker to get Slimer's attention. "It's very important. Janine's having her sisters over. You must stay out of the living room while they're here."

"Janine pwegnant."

"Yes, Janine is very pregnant and her sisters are coming to make her happy." Slimer was good with emotions, the visible ones at least. "You know how Peter hates being slimed? Janine would be much angrier if you slimed her or her sisters."

"No Janine angry." Slimer wrung his tiny hands. Peter told him that was a Rule. Peter played with him as he told him.

"You'll stay out of the living room." Ray smiled as Slimer nodded and did a spiral aerial march. "Here's your cracker." He held it out and green hands grabbed it. Ray went into the kitchen for his breakfast.

* * *

"Sit." Trudie had come over a bit early, just in case there was anything Janine thought needed doing. "I'll get the big bowl down. Which glasses you want us to use?"

"I could have gotten it."

Trudie sat down beside Janine. "You're right. You could've. You could also get hit by a bus. I'm going to use the ladder. Carrot?"

Janine flipped over her hand and Trudie put a carrot stick in it. She stood up and went into the hall at the ferocious 'crunch'. She pulled the ladder from its spot and maneuvered it into place. She could understand why Janine hadn't wanted to bother. Trudie unfolded the ladder, pulling down on each hinge, checking the footing before climbing a few steps and grabbing the bowl.

She was one step shy of the floor when the hair on the back of her neck went up. Trudie turned and squeaked. So did the green Thing. Squeak and fly backwards, putting its hands over orange eyes.

"Not wivfing woom." Slimer slipped up one hand. "Janine sister?"

Trudie stepped down and sat the bowl on the table. Ghost. "You know Janine?" She realized it was an inane question about when she placed the hovering ghost as the sometimes mentioned mascot. "I'm her sister-in-law. Her brother's wife."

"This kitchen."

Ah. "I'll go back to the living room."

Slimer nodded.

Trudie picked up the bowl and backed out.

"What's so funny?"

"The ghost." She'd had Elliott react similarly when his instructions didn't quite match situation, when he was three.

"Whadda Slimer do!?"

"Nothing, I just startled it." Right, she'd seen pictures of Dr. Venkman Slicked. Slimed. As she thought about it, she realized Peter was photographed in that state a lot, more than the others. "You want something to drink?"

Janine started to get up, then sank back down under her sister-in-law's Look. "Sure. There are concentrates in the freezer." Saying Slimer didn't eat them.

Trudie approached the kitchen doorway carefully. "Slimer, I'm just coming in to get something for Janine, okay?" She peeked her head in. The ghost was hovering by the wall shared with the living room. Trudie stepped in and looked in the freezer, picked out two juices, found pitchers and glasses and mixed up the concentrates.

Returning to the living room with the pitchers and a clean dish towel, she asked, "Was he really from a hotel?"

"Slimer?" Janine looked at her sister-in-law, and grabbed the towel spreading it out on the coffee table. "Yeah, that part's pretty accurate."

Trudie went back for the glasses, sat them down and pulled out some ridiculous swizzle sticks and large drink umbrellas. "It's all about the accessories."

* * *

Ray took the Firehouse steps two at a time. The schedule was supposed to let him get back so he could introduce Hildi, but busts were unpredictable. He knew it was rather late, but he kept running. He hopped slightly as he hit the living room rug. Ray kneaded Janine's shoulders gently. "Hi, Hildi."

The silver haired woman looked up from the taut dome she was ornamenting. "Girls, what forfeit do you want to claim?" Her eyes sparkled but her face seemed serious.

Ray gulped. "Sorry." He looked at Janine's sister and sister-in-law shyly though he already knew they were dressed. He started to pull his hands away and got his knuckles rapped. "Oops."

Janine glared at Hildi and tipped her head back. "How was 'busting?"

"Great." He took the invitation and kissed her, leaning around.

"When did that---?", Lisa whispered to Trudie.

Trudie stopped her hand to her hair before smearing the drying paste. She didn't have an answer, though she wondered how Lisa was only asking now. "Penalty?"

Hildi registered both questions behind her. "Ray knew he shouldn't barge in, yet he did. You have a claim against him. What is his price?"

* * *

Winston looked up when Ray finally entered the kitchen. They'd all had showers and were still well into dinner, despite Ray being first out of Ecto. Ray just grabbed a plate and served himself before sitting down.

"What did they do to you?" Peter chuckled as Ray looked at him shocked. "Tex, you were outnumbered. So, what'd they do?"

"Painted my legs."

"All the way up?" Peter chuckled at Egon's throat clearing and Ray's blush.

"To my knees." Ray dug in. He really didn't mind, Hildi and Trudie had been very understanding. And Janine had fun.

"Isn't that going to pull?" It was amazing how much Peter could ftp from alt.net. Ray pinked again and Peter was pretty sure 'shaved' was in his engineer's mumble. He tousled Ray's hair and dropped the matter.

Once supper was over and the dishes washed, Winston went to the bunkroom to read, Ray went off to machine the motorcycle part Hildi needed and Peter followed Egon to the lab. Eventually he tired of the couch and Egon clearly engrossed, Peter headed downstairs. He made himself a small snack, then decided he should check on the women, make sure they had enough eats or whatnot. He left his food on the counter, and slid along towards the living room door, putting his hands over his eyes.

"You ladies need anything?" Peter stuck his head around the doorframe, hands firmly over his face.

"Let's see the rest of you first." Hildi chortled as he stood in the doorway, eyes still obscured. She looked around the room and then mouthed 'may he look?' "You can take your hands down, we're all decent."

Peter dropped his hands, smiling at the four women. "I'd say you're all way better than Fives." Janine seemed to be mummified in a lot of saran wrap. "How's Pickle?" he asked her softly.

"Snug." She thought a moment. "Pull me up."

Peter grasped Janine by the upper arms and lifted. "I'll keep your seat warm." He plopped against the upholstery and smirked about her comment of just keep it down. "So, do you need any snacks, ice?" He could tell Slimer had behaved himself. He'd have to sneak the Spud some pizza.

* * *

Slimer drifted around under the living room. He liked being near Janine, for all the confusion of Soon. Ray came downstairs and Slimer approached, slow enough not to impact. Peter said he had to be extra careful about that.

"Hi, Slimer." He hadn't thought to bring any treats. "I'm going to be using the lathe." Sometimes Slimer didn't mind, other times he went off like a bottle rocket. "Remember, no living room tonight."

"Janine's party. She happy?"

"I think so." He looked over the part Hildi needed, figuring out how to make the replacement.

Slimer stayed until Ray was too involved with the metal and headed for the bunkroom.

"Winston!"

"Hey there." He read the last bit of the short story, then put in his bookmark. "Do you want a story?" Winston sat up and headed for the shelf. While the ghost was rather taken with picture books, Winston found Slimer also liked more complex stories.

Slimer hadn't thought of that. "Read." He hovered back and forth.

* * *

Egon looked up from his work surprised at how quiet Peter had been. No Peter on the couch. That explained the silence. He decided that a break wouldn't be amiss and headed down to the kitchen.

"Peter." He had not expected to see Peter shirtless straddling one of the kitchen chairs. "Ms Hildi." She was piping a large design over Peter's back.

"See anything you like?" Peter wished he had a mirror to catch Egon's expression. "Spengs, how's about joining in, get detailed?" He thought a moment. "Saying Hildi doesn't mind, how about it, babe?"

She snorted, the man would flirt at his own wake. Hildi approved, art for the sheer joy of it was too rare.

Egon moued his mouth, then unbuttoned and rolled up his shirtsleeves.

* * *

Janine grinned as Ray shed his pants, displaying the pattern on his lower legs. "No hard feelings?" She really hadn't thought about how hairy Ray's legs were when she'd chimed in about hennaing him.

"Did you have fun?" Ray started undressing Janine, pleased that she didn't insist on doing it herself, or on turning off the light.

"I did." She'd been amused when she'd gotten back from the bathroom and Peter was sweet-talking Hildi. She'd agreed with Trudie that Peter couldn't stay in the living room, but had pointed out Hildi could take him into the kitchen. It had been nice just hanging, each of them letting their henna set before pulling their clothes into better order. Lisa headed out as Trudie gathered up the glasses and other dishes. Ray had joined Janine and Trudie at the end, this time asking permission to enter.

"Thanks." She turned her head back and puckered up. "Let's spoon."

* * *

Peter smiled, the last plastic bag now empty and Egon's ass covered in spirals. His lover had refused to expose more than his arms to Hildi, which she did decorate. Peter however wasn't quite satisfied with that. This, this was satisfactory, Egon in nothing but his shirt and socks, front down on the lab couch. The designs weren't 100% symmetrical, cheek to cheek but Peter thought it looked pretty good. Hildi had made him practice on his own foot before she'd take his money.

"You do realize that will have to dry before you unleash any of your plans?"

Peter detected a bit of humor in the deep warning. "How well can you hold still?" He fingered the back of one of Egon's knees.

* * *

Winston was amused to find Egon and Ray making breakfast the morning after the party. "They got you too?" Winston was surprised Egon had strayed that close after what had happened to Ray.

"He came looking for Peter." Ray had looked over the sleeves when Egon turned back his cuffs to start cooking. One arm was wrapped in a double helix, the coils ornamented with the tree of life pattern, while the other was netted with geometric interlacings.

Janine wandered in. "Ooh, we got any frozen strawberries?" She found a bag at the back of the freezer.

Peter entered just as everyone was sitting down, taking the coffee mug pressed on him. He looked at Egon, sleeves buttoned tight, and pouted. They'd had a lot of fun last night. Peter had warm hopes for tonight. He drifted through breakfast, ingesting plenty of tasty fuel.

* * *

Janine didn't want to be awake. She hadn't any choice in the matter. Now that the contraction was over, she thought. Likely as not, she'd be doing this for most of the day. She looked at the clock, noting the time. Not real precise, but that didn't much matter until they were just under an hour apart. Her suitcase was packed, had been for the past three weeks. First thing was to get the guys, the guys except Ray, out of the Firehouse. If they didn't know any better, they'd be fine on three-men jobs. Okay, she'd been front-loading the cases that were runners as much as she could, and had marked the ones she figured weren't short man jobs.

The question was, how well could Ray lie? Well, she'd check, and if she didn't think it'd do she'd just have to claim he was sick in-between contractions. She closed her eyes and snuggled back in. She'd call the temp agency, see if they could have Carroll day after tomorrow.

* * *

"Janine?" Ray looked at the clock and let her squeeze his hand. He sat up and gathered her close once it seemed to be over. "How long has that been happening?"

"Not long enough to tell anyone else."

"I'm staying with you."

"Damn right you are, buster. Coach." Janine smiled. "Um," How to ask Ray--

"I'll make breakfast, tell them I'd feel better if someone was here, with you. Hungry?"

"Yeah, I am."

* * *

"Thanks, Ray." Peter patted him on the shoulder.

"Thank you, Raymond." Egon touched him on the arm.

Ray watched his friends hit the pole one after another, Winston first. They, Janine, though he concurred, had decided not to risk her having a contraction while sending off the other guys. She didn't always join them for breakfast, after all. He returned to the kitchen, giving the nursery door the all clear knock.

He'd wiped down the counter and washed the glasses when Janine came in. "What's today's plan?" He knew he should have his bed ready to move into the living room, and Janine's to go up to the bunkroom, before they headed to the hospital.

"I'm going to reschedule as many of tomorrow's busts as I can, triage the current calls, have a soak and I'll let you know the rest as we go." She thought a moment. "Though I'm thinking there will be potstickers." She squeezed Ray's butt and headed downstairs.

Ray grinned and finished the dishes.

* * *

The morning passed uneventfully; clients screamed about their appointments being delayed and Janine yelled back while noting any new particulars. She got up and walked around as the desire struck her and Ray brought her water and snacks. Ray called out for Chinese food and they had a nice lunch.

"Wonder where Slimer is?" Janine sipped down the combination of egg drop and hot and sour soups. He'd been hovering around quite a bit.

"It's almost New Year's, he's probably watching lion dancers practice."

Janine giggled at that. She set the styrofoam container down suddenly. She held up her hand as Ray started to stand. She breathed through the contractions. Janine made a mark on the appointment list. "Guess this is happening."

Ray now did get up and move to her, Janine pulling herself standing. "I'm going to take that soak.

"I'll run it for you. Do you want to sit in the living room or lie down in your room?" Ray walked to the stairs and helped her to go up.

"Think there is any Paraguayan ballroom dance?"

Ray led her into the living room and handed her the remote before heading further up to the bathroom.

* * *

Janine poured water from her cupped hand over her spiral decorated belly. Ray read from a book of poetry, not all of it in English. She let the words lap over her, soaked in them just as she did in the warm tub. She had earlier taken out what she wanted to wear to the hospital. "I should have had Hildi decorate my collarbone." That part seemed more naked than the rest of her she could see.

"I got press-on stickers." Ray blushed as Janine looked at him. He started a new poem.

The water cooled and Janine had Ray help her from the tub. Words tumbled from his lips as he toweled her off and helped her dress. Hebrew words, Song of Songs. "You memorized that." She kissed him. "Let's go listen to some music."

* * *

Slimer turned towards the Firehouse.

"Rover, what's wrong?" The old woman ate the treat she held out, realizing her pet's attention was elsewhere.

"Soon, Now." He wasn't sure what Soon was. There were so many rules. "Gotta go." He kissed his friend, leaving a small green mark.

"Okay, Rover. You know where to find me." She pulled herself up as her pet flew off, pushing her cart ahead of her.

Slimer zipped Home. Downstairs he looked at Janine's desk, empty. Upstairs. He headed for the living room.

"Janine!" He plopped through the floor, looked at Ray and back to Janine in pain. He wrung his tiny hands burbling his worry, green slime flying.

Finally the contraction finished. "I'm having a baby. Ray, I'm going to call for the cab to come in an hour." Ray helped her get up, looking at her worriedly. "It's a phone, I can manage."

"We've told you Janine is going to have a baby."

"Baby." Slimer nodded. Kittens were baby cats. Puppies were baby dogs.

"Slimer?" Ray considered what he'd said over the past months. "You have no idea what we've been saying."

"Can't slime baby."

Ray closed his eyes. "Slimer, Janine and I are going to the hospital so the baby can come out."

"Soon!" Not Two. Baby? "Baby inside?"

"Yeah, Slimer. That's what having a baby means." Janine hung onto the doorway.

Slimer bobbed over to Janine, low to the ground. He pointed at her stomach. "Baby?"

"How long have you and Peter been talking with him?!"

"Slimer, I want you to go find the guys. Can you do that?"

"Guys!" He rushed off, ignoring Ray. Baby. Not Two. "Soon, soon SOON."

Janine shook her head. Ghost, barndoor. "Hope it takes him awhile to find them. We have everything?"

"Yep." Ray pulled her into a hug.

* * *

The cabbie pulled away with loud prayers of thanks that his vehicle had been spared the mystery of birth. Ray carried Janine's overnight bag, and his own coaching satchel. She'd just gotten to the hour apart mark during the trip from the firehouse. They walked up to the reception desk, and collected the admitting clipboard. Ray handed Janine a pen.

Soon they were shown to her room, almost a suite with the private waiting room. The nurse entered and made her hellos, before washing her hands and pulling on gloves. Ray started to leave.

"No, you don't." Janine latched onto his arm. "Grab a chair." Once she had him facing the wall she slipped off her panties. "Just remember this and no sneaking a peek when the head crowns."

* * *

Peter smacked his uniform, causing a rain of noodly crumbs. "Did I get a tan, at least?" The Twos had been amused by the plant's equipment and targeted him with the extruder.

"A sunlamp can serve as a heat lamp, a proper heatlamp--"

Winston had just a moment before--

The green blur impacted the brown-clad Ghostbuster.

"SLIMER!" Peter wiped his face of the impact splatter while their ghost clung to his overall.

Egon tried to interpret the mutterings, hindered by Slimer's licking Peter's culinary coating.

"Get off!" He ineffectually pushed the Spud, his hands sinking in until Peter withdrew them. This was worse than when Ray told Slimer he was hiding twinkies.

"Ssoon, NOW!" Slimer pulled on Peter's uniform. "Bbaby!"

"Baby?" Peter tamped down his ire. "Slimer, what about the baby?"

"Janine. Baby! Soon." He mimicked Janine's grimaces. "Waysay Fwindgwuys. Uh huh. Soon Now." Slimer backed off from Peter, brushing at the slime, smearing it further. "No slime baby." He grinned toothily, then circled Egon.

Peter pulled open the back gate, racked his pack and stowed his traps. Then he grabbed Egon's traps. "Spengs?" He looked him in the face, Egon having lost his little natural color. Peter took the pack from Egon while Winston stowed his own equipment.

"We're not ready." Egon didn't resist as Peter guided him into the back seat. There was so much left to do.

Peter unzipped, pulled his arms from his sleeves , inside outing the top of his uniform before getting into Ecto. "Zed, the hospital!"

Winston shut Ecto's gate and slid into the driver's seat. "Slimer, how long did it take you to find us?"

"Soon. Baby soon."

Time wasn't a ghost's reference frame.

"Use the siren!" Peter turned his attention to Egon, guiding him to bend over in his seat. "Didn't you hear that parenthood is a tyranny? Our tyrant is on the march."

Egon rolled his glance towards Peter in remonstration.

Pay dirt. "Our halcyon days of democracy have ended, and the dictatorship will only in stages be moved to benign. That's our job, to wean the child past divine right and become a Parliament." Peter looked at Egon's hair. "You're already dressed for the part."

"Peter, I'm impressed how you've bent political science into one of your fancy flights of flimflam, though I am sure that you have missed both the point and are incorrect in your assertions."

Winston couldn't have wished for a better distraction. Peter didn't even notice his 'order' had been ignored. Babies took their own sweet time arriving and he was not risking Janine's wrath by appearing at the hospital bedraggled--he certainly wasn't flower fresh after a full slate, even having fared better than Peter.

"This isn't the hospital." Peter looked blankly at the bay of the Firehouse.

"Both of you shower and change. I'm going to see when they left. Don't use all the hot water."

Peter quirked his mouth. "Is that a conservation order?"

"Sure, just remember why you're leaving hot water; for my shower."

Peter chivvied Egon ahead of him in a stunning display of speed. Winston shook his head and quickly unloaded the equipment and cleaned Ecto's seats before checking Janine's desk. A big note showing 5:26 was tented and pinned between the monitor and keyboard.

Winston headed upstairs and stuck his head into the nursery. Both beds were stripped; no emergency. He closed the door again, then took the spiral stairs noisily.

* * *

The contraction ended and she was still standing.

"You're doing great, Janine." Ray offered the cool washcloth and Janine nodded. He patted her forehead and then applied it to her neck. He looked at his watch. "Ready to head back to the room?"

"Me and a race horse." Felt like the Vlasic stork was on her bladder. He gently swung them around into a U and switched sides. As she passed the second door she ignored the nurse and bee-lined for the third.

"Um." Ray blushed and the nurse smiled.

Janine exited and waddled to the bed. As she bent her legs she quipped, "Rotate the tires."

* * *

Peter looked at Egon in his pink shirt and grey flannel. "My hair look okay?"

Winston eased Ecto into the covered entrance. It was going to be a long evening. As Peter started to shut his door, Winston fished out and offered his sanity pack. He pulled out, wondering how long he could hide in the parking garage.

Peter looked at Egon, who now looked normal to anyone that didn't know him. He found a receptionist and got instructions to Janine's room, returned to Egon and steered him down the hall.

"How much is this costing?" Peter looked around the two couch waiting room with just the one interior door. It was a far cry from the bus station ambiance that chain-smoking lent to just about any room. Egon looked at him blisteringly. "What?"

Egon sat primly on one of the couches.

Peter propped Winston's bag against the other couch and sat next to Egon. He clasped his hand over Egon's, smiling as Egon turned to regard him.

Winston found them still so sitting as he joined them.

* * *

"Guys!" Ray modeled breathing for Janine as she rode out the contraction.

Egon stood, his journal abandoned.

Peter straightened slightly from his lean against the wall.

"Hi." She blew air up at her bangs. The hair stayed stuck to her forehead. "Ray, could you get me a clip?"

"Sure." Ray went back into the room.

Janine made her way to Winston. and grasped him by the shoulder. "Thanks." She looked at Egon and Peter. "They cleaned up well."

"That Winston didn't help with." Peter futzed with his rolled up left sleeve before stuffing his hands in his pockets. "Okay, so he made sure we stopped at home."

Janine patted Peter on the cheek before heading for Egon. She pulled him down by the tie. She spoke directly into his ear. "You knocked me up and I didn't even get a screw." Janine let go of his tie suddenly.

Ray came out of the room proffering the clip. "Do you still want a walk?"

"Nah. Carrot sticks?"

Ray smiled at his friends and escorted Janine back inside.

* * *

"I can't do this!!"

"You are doing this." Ray mopped Janine's brow.

"I. Can't!"

"Push! Now!"

* * *

"Got the shoulders, one more push-- We've got a baby!" The doctor set the baby on the mother's stomach.

Ray looked at his watch. "You did it! Janine, you were great!" He mopped her face.

The nurse and doctor tied off and snipped the umbilicus, and the nurse took the baby to wash and draw blood.

"Okay, just a little more work. This part should be easy."

Ray nodded at the door as the nurse came around with the swaddled baby.

The nurse stepped into the family room and looked over the three men, asleep. "Special delivery."

Peter roused from his nap. "Hey there." He realized the bundle wasn't blue or pink, and looked at the nurse in confusion. She mouthed 'girl'. He accepted his daughter as he nudged Egon with his knee. He inspected each hand, and as soon as the nurse retreated he dug out the baby's feet. Good, twenty total. He redid the fabric folds. "Spengs, look who's here. She's got ten fingers and ten toes."

Egon sat up like a cat, as if he'd never been asleep. He blinked as Peter moved his arms and settled their daughter in them. "Hello, --" He looked at Peter askance past the fingers pressed over his mouth. Peter leaned in and whispered in his ear. "Oh. Yes, I concur." Egon eased the small hat from the very pink head, and cupped his palm over her skull.

"Egon?" Peter stroked the wispy blonde hair. She had pretty blue eyes.

"She was a bit lopsided." His mother had warned him about the late knitting suture. He started pulling the knit cap back on, Peter adding a hand. "Thank you."

Winston stretched, realizing they were four. Pink baby, white blanket. He brought up the high-speed film loaded camera and snapped several pictures. "Peter, stop hamming it up." He set the camera aside. "So, who is it?"

"She, not it. We want you to do the honors, welcoming her by name." Peter smiled while Egon stood and crossed to Winston's couch, carrying the baby.

Winston listened to Egon's whisper as he accepted their daughter, nodding. He looked down into her eyes, and greeted her, "Hello, Athena Kateryn Spengler."


End file.
